


Red Panda

by NickelModelTales



Series: I Serve and Obey the Masters [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Brainwashing, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Fighter Pilots, Hong Kong, Hypnotism, Mind Control, Multi, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Resistance, Science Fiction, Sexual Slavery, Shameless Smut, Spies & Secret Agents, War, Women Being Awesome, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: An erotic hypnosis alien invasion story, told in two parts.  PART TWO:  Cassandra Tarran becomes the tip of the spear in a desperate attempt to destroy the alien invaders once and for all.  But Cass must risk her freedom to rescue her copilot, Bex… or become a hypnotized slave herself!
Series: I Serve and Obey the Masters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065941
Kudos: 12





	1. I Can Fly Anything

**_Oregon, November 2219_ **

Eagles Point Base was a small CommMON monitoring station, nestled within a remote stretch of the American Rocky Mountains. The little outpost was little more than two bunkers, a barracks, a high-powered antennae array, and a laser-secured perimeter fence. There were less than twenty men stationed to Eagles Point, even during times of war. High Command sometimes forgot the base was there.

But one frosty November morning, the base’s autoalarms sounded. An attack! The guards rushed to man the defensive guns, terrified that the Knanti invaders had come to kill them all. Each one remembered: it had been three weeks since all communications from High Command had mysteriously ceased! The soldiers had no idea what was happening in the outside world.

Within Bunker A, Sergeant Leslie Wilkes, the sensor operator, watched her monitors with dread. A blip had appeared on the outer tracking sensors. Approaching rapidly.

“All hands, stand ready!” Commander Tom Jackson barked into his wristcomm. His men signaled acknowledgement.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Wilkes frowned, studying the approaching blip. “Sir, that craft is broadcasting a standard ID beacon.”

“…its one of ours?” Jackson said in puzzlement.

“Grayhawk-class Class B transport,” replied Wilkes, studying her computer’s output. “Serial number 392-A1142. Registered to USR Resistance.” The young officer pursed her lips. “Could they be survivors, sir?”

“Dunno,” admitted the Commander.

Shortly after the last Knanti mothership had come to Earth, the Resistance had simply dropped off Defense’s comm network. No-one knew why. Then, High Command had started acting very, very strangely. They had ordered large sections of the worldwide military to download broadcasted synap messages, or to report back to base. The world had been upside-down ever since.

“Sir?” Sergeant Wilkes said. “That transport’s signaling. They want to land within our perimeter. Their clearance code checks out.”

“I don’t like it,” Commander Jackson said tightly. He rubbed his forehead. “Grant permission, but then order our boys to surround them. No-one gets off the transport until we conduct a thorough security check.”

“Aye, sir,” Wilkes acknowledged, hoping that her CO knew what he was doing.

***** ***** *****

The transport circled the base once, then hovered in for a final approach. Commander Jackson glared at the little craft, the muscle in his jaw flexing. Beside him were two of his best men and Sergeant Wilkes; the slender young Wilkes was training a handheld scanner on the descending ship.

“ _This is Abbot,_ ” an electrified voice said in Jackson’s earpiece. “ _Guns 1, 2, and 3 are trained on our guests._ ”

“Standby,” ordered Jackson. To Wilkes, he asked, “Anything?”

“Ten lifesigns aboard, all human,” Wilkes reported. “I’m detecting heavy weapons, though.”

“Fuck,” spat Jackson.

As the transport’s landing gear extended, Wilkes suddenly shouted, “Sir! Their weapon systems just went active!”

“All guns!” barked the Commander, “open f-“

There was a **_bang!_** from the transport. Small, silver disks, each no larger than a tea saucer, shot out from the descending ship. They bounced and skipped along the ground, racing directly for the gunnery crews.

Then there was a blinding flash from all directions. The disks had deployed their paralysis sprays. Jackson watched in horror as his gunners and most of his soldiers dropped to the ground, instantly unconscious.

“Fuck!” he screamed. “Fire at will, fire at will!”

His remaining troopers dropped into fighting stances and peppered the transport’s hull with charged plasma bolts. Their rifles were deadly, but not strong enough to penetrate the ship’s armor.

The transport swung around, and now it was firing back. Dirt and sparks sprayed into the air as the transport’s belly cannons shot up the base. A set of fuel drums, placed against the storage shed, caught a bolt and exploded.

Commander Jackson wasn’t an experienced combat officer, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. “Sound retreat!” he roared into his comm. “We’ll barricade inside Bunker A!”

***** ***** *****

Only seven of Jackson’s men, including Wilkes, made it into the bunker before they were forced to seal the duratitanium security doors. Thankfully, they had recharged the generator just that morning.

The attackers, whoever they were, worked quickly. On the bunker workstation, Jackson watched his external security feeds wink out, one-by-one. Then the emergency transmitter went dead, too.

“We’re cut off,” the Commander realized. It was probably only a matter of time until the invaders located the bunker’s oxygen pump and killed Bunker A’s air supply.

“We’ll make a last stand, sir,” Wilkes vowed, drawing her pistol. “No-one is taken prisoner, correct?”

“Yeah,” agreed Jackson. “No prisoners.”

There was a thunderous roar! Without warning, all of the soldiers were flung to the ground by a massive shockwave. Jackson banged his head against the concrete floor, and his vision went double. Smoke filled the air. His ears rang.

Heavy boots were sprinting toward him, and then rough hands seized the commander. His sidearm was ripped from his fingers, and then his arms were forced behind his back.

“On your knees,” his male assailant snarled. With the other man’s superior strength bearing down on him, the dazed Jackson had little choice but to comply. He knelt, aware that his captor was watching him closely.

As the rest of his men were being subdued, Jackson heard of two more sets of boots approaching. These footfalls took their time, almost casually strolling into the bunker. Jackson forced himself to look up.

Two officers were approaching him, both dressed in infantry uniforms. The first was a tall, broad-chested man, perhaps in his mid-fifties. He had a sunbeaten face, and hard, black eyes. General’s stars rested upon his shoulders.

Beside the tall man was a slender yet curvy African American woman, breathtaking in her simple yet elegant beauty. The woman had deep brown eyes, red lips, and soft, flawless skin. Despite himself, Jackson found himself staring at her high cheeks, which somehow made her appear lovely even in the harsh electric lights. The woman wore a military haircut and no makeup, yet she appeared as gorgeous as any of civilian supermodel.

The general surveyed the bunker, then came to loom over Jackson. “Commander,” he rumbled. “I’m Major General Lindsey Schaper, Strategic Defense Infantry, Twenty-Seventh Corps. Service number GA-9370-0036-XTS. You are hereby ordered to surrender your position.”

Jackson felt as if he’d been slapped upside the head. An infantry general had captured Eagles Point Base? Why?

There had been rumors, terrible rumors, whispered over the officers’ private comm network. Some said that High Command had gone crazy. Or that the Knanti were mind-controlling the generals. Or that human troops were being forced to attack other human troops, all while the aliens gained control of the civilian governments. Could General Schaper be an alien puppet?

“Well, Commander?” the general scowled. “Do you yield?”

“Forget him,” the African American woman said to Schaper. “I can get what we need.”

She seated herself at the bunker workstation, tapping impatiently at the keyboard. “Hey, Torchy,” she said into her body comm unit, “the bunker’s secure. Reenable their network connection, will ya?”

The workstation monitor lit up. Jackson watched in sickening dread as the woman talked with this unseen “Torchy” to bypass the Eagles Point Base security lockouts. Soon, she had full control over the computer.

“Whadda we got, Cass?” General Schaper asked, coming to stand beside the woman.

“Looks like the uplink to the Sat network is still intact, sir,” replied Cass, running system inventories. “The Knanti haven’t locked out this station. Yet.”

“Good,” Schaper murmured, leaning closer to the screen. “See if you can find us a bird, can’tcha?”

Cass nodded. “I’ll try, sir.”

The general straightened, then looked over Commander Jackson and the other prisoners. “Any idea if we can work with this lot?” he asked his female companion.

Still focusing on her screen, Cass shrugged. “No way to know, sir. I wouldn’t risk it.”

General Schaper made a decision. He strode over to Jackson, gesturing to the Marine holding Jackson down that the Commander was allowed to rise to his feet.

Schaper held Jackson in a steely gaze. “I’ll ask you this once, Commander,” he intoned. “Have you accepted any synaptic downloads in the last month?”

“No,” Jackson mumbled, and it was the truth. Eagles Point Base didn’t have much need for that high-speed data access stuff.

The general cocked his head to one side. “My people will check your access logs. If you haven’t downloaded anything into your mind, you can join us.”

“Sir,” Jackson said stiffly, “begging your pardon, but what the fuck is going on?”

“The Knanti have compromised High Command with a synaptic program that hypnotizes the victim,” said Schaper. “My unit is still independent. But when the aliens finish brainwashing most of humanity’s leaders, they’ll come looking for us. And you.”

Commander Jackson hesitated, uncertain what to believe.

“I’ve found a bird, General!” Cass said suddenly. “Yes… Yes, this one might do nicely.”

Schaper hurried back to the young woman’s side. He studied the screen carefully. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Can you fly it?”

“Why sir,” Cass grinned, faking outrage, “I can fly anything.”

Schaper turned back to Jackson. “You guys got a simulator in this joint?”

***** ***** *****

Jackson watched as Cass and another infantry technician released the security locks on Eagles Point’s only flight simulator. The simulator was a gigantic machine, with a command chair encased within a plexiglass bubble. Heavy data feed cables ran from the simulator and into the base’s primary computer cores.

“Looks good…” Cass commented absently, inspecting one of the simulator’s diagnostic screens. “Can we doublecheck the sync protocols?”

“Cass, we don’t got time for that,” General Schaper growled. “Someone in Command is gonna notice our little operation any second. I need your brain up in that bird.”

“Aye, sir,” Cass said quickly. “Okay, Torchy, you still listening?”

“ _I’m here,_ ” a woman’s voice said through the bunker’s speakers.

“I’ve got to uplink right away,” said Cass grimly, unbuttoning her uniform’s jacket. “Start the satellite hack.”

“ _Roger that,_ ” replied Torchy. “ _Interfacing now…_ ”

With a thunderclap in his chest, Commander Jackson realized what General Schaper’s people were up to. Strategic Command once had hundreds of drone fightercraft up in high orbit. The Knanti had destroyed most of them, but a select few “birds” had escaped detection. Now, Schaper and his men hoped to remote-access one of those drones, tie it into the flight simulator, and then…

The drone was both a spacefighter aircraft and a flying thermonuclear missile. With **_unimaginable_** destructive power. In the wrong hands, one of those robot ships could devastate half a continent.

“Jesus Christ!” Jackson blurted out, alarmed. “General, you can’t-“

Immediately, Jackson’s Marine guard seized the Commander by the arm. Jackson felt a pistol jammed into his ribs.

“I wouldn’t speak, **_sir_** ,” the Marine warned him.

General Schaper eyed Jackson. “At ease, soldier. Commander, we intend to take one of your birds, and smash it into the heart of the Knanti mothership. You agree that this is a worthy objective?”

Jackson stared back. “The mothership? General, even if you could get access-“

“We’ll have access,” Schaper replied firmly.

“Even if,” Jackson plowed on, “we can’t pinpoint the Knanti mothership! And even then, you couldn’t get through their defenses.”

“We know where they are,” Schaper said simply.

“ _I have a tie-in,_ ” announced Torchy. Then her voice tightened. “ _Oh, shit…! Sir, High Command is on to us! If you want this bird, we have to grab it, now!_ ”

***** ***** *****

Instantly, Cass threw off her jacket. She climbed into the flight simulator as the technician began the machine’s activation sequence.

“Grab the bird, Torchy!” General Schaper yelled. He moved to sit at the computer workstation, his thick fingers working quickly over the keyboard.

The simulator hummed to life. Cass strapped herself in, then pulled up the flight stick and throttle controls.

Resting on the dashboard was a thin strip of silver metal, curved in the shape of a Letter C to fit around a human head. A synaptic interface. Dark LED lights dotted its surface.

Cass hesitated. A synaptic interface was the device that allowed a data link between a human mind and a computer. This device had given pilots like Cass unbelievable control over their computer-packed spacefighters. But the synaps had proved to be humanity’s greatest vulnerability, too. The Knanti had studied these devices. They had used the interfaces to download a hypnotic brainwashing program into human pilots, and then into most of High Command.

But there was no other way to remotely control the drone fighter. If Cass wanted to fly the robot ship, she’d have to use an interface. And hope that the Knanti couldn’t get into her mind this time.

“ _Sir!_ ” Torchy cried over the intercom. “ _If we’re gonna grab this bird-_ “

“Go, Torchy!” barked Cass. “Engage!” She grit her teeth, slipped the synaptic interface around her temple, and pressed the ACTIVATE button on the side.

The interface came to life. It scanned Cass’s brain, then initiated the link. Cass’s consciousness was sucked into the computer.

***** ***** *****

15,000 kilometers above the Solomon Islands, suspended in high orbit, Drone ZH-293 came online. The robot ship acknowledged Cass’s remote control signal, established an ultra-encrypted channel with her, and then warmed up its fusion core. Soon, the automated systems were deploying its great metal wings.

Cass’s mind reached across the vast distance, assuming control. The drone was an older model, perhaps older than she was, but nonetheless spaceworthy. As a test, Cass nudged the thruster controls, just a little. They flared up beautifully.

Back on Earth, Cass watched the flight simulator’s 3D interface flicker to life. She could see the Earth, far below her, represented as a multilight hologram. The blackness of space loomed over her, with a thousand stars twinkling across the void.

“Oh shit,” General Schaper swore. “Cass, the Knanti see you. I’m reading multiple alien fightercraft, coming your way.”

Cass used her thoughts to access the drone’s sensor array. From this altitude, the drone was monitoring hundreds of thousands of craft, all zipping about on the Earth’s surface below. But only four of those craft had Knanti energy signatures. 3,000 km, and closing fast! ETA 38 seconds.

“Ugh, I see ‘em,” Cass grimaced.

She accessed the drone’s engines, and hit the accelerator. The robot ship shuddered, but did not move immediately; sixty-two metric tons cannot quickly overcome inertia, no matter how much thrust is applied.

“Jeez, this bird’s a lot heavier than a Bladehawk T-35,” Cass grunted.

The computer’s alarm beeped. The Knanti were now **_2,000 km away_** , and arming weapons.

“Cass…!” warned Schaper.

“I know, sir, I know!” Cass snapped. She threw all emergency power into the drone’s engines. Then, on a sudden inspiration, she shoved the flight stick forward. Slowly, the nose cone of the robot ship pointed straight down.

Inching forward, Cass’s craft began to tumble towards Earth. Gravity and the fusion drive were working in tandem.

Schaper exclaimed, “They’re firing!”

With nothing left to lose, Cass activated the drone’s boosters and **_floored it_**. The drone engines roared like a lion, and the ship plunged straight down, a bullet shot from the Heavens. The acceleration was off the digital readouts.

“Woo ** _HOOO!_** ” Cass shouted, momentarily forgetting herself.

Shaking like a tin can in a hurricane, the drone ship raced into Earth’s atmosphere, almost bursting into flame as she flew. Cass fought the urge to level off. Her Knanti hunters were up above her, no doubt careening about as they tried to reacquire their target. She needed to gain some distance.

The altimeter was dropping fast: 13,000 km… 11,500 km… 9,000 km…

“Jesus, Cass, don’t crash her!” Schaper said in alarm. “We’re not gonna get our hands on another drone ship.”

“I got this,” Cass replied through clenched teeth.

As 5,000 km, the young pilot killed the boosters, and wrenched the flight stick toward her. This simulator was good; the mechanical resistance wired into the stick felt quite real. Cass’s arms strained.

Gradually, the drone pulled her nose up and pointed it at the horizon. Now Cass reengaged the engines, and her ship raced across the Pacific skies. She was less than 1,000 km above the ocean surface.

A warning light came on in Cass’s HUD; the liquid coolant seal had ruptured somewhere within the drone’s belly. That was bad; it meant this spacecraft hadn’t been as well maintained as Cass had hoped. She would have to be careful with crazy maneuvers. She carefully nudged the drone lower to the water.

Four green blips appeared on the upper rear sensors, flying high, but closing fast. Cass tensed.

“They’re on your tail,” General Schaper warned.

Cass didn’t reply. She had to concentrate.

Tactically speaking, she was in a terrible position. The Knanti ships were faster, and they had the high ground. No doubt, they would swarm above in an attempt to keep her from climbing back into the sky. Then, when they thought they had the kill shot, they’d dive-bomb her.

The irony of the situation was not lost on Cass. In her Firetail days, this was how she liked to kill Knanti; fly above ‘em, wait for her prey to run for it, then attack.

The beautiful young pilot made a face, lightning-fast calculations zipping through her mind. What advantages did a twenty-five year old drone ship have over Knanti raiders? Not many.

Well, the drone was highly maneuverable. That was something.

Cass forced her body to relax, willing her subconscious to get creative. The best ideas always came when-

Wait. She had a plan.

Working carefully, Cass eased back on her throttle, all the while lowering her craft’s belly closer to the ocean’s surface. The blue water beneath her was choppy, roiling and frothing.

“What’re you doing?” General Schaper said sharply.

“Let me focus!” barked Cass, then quickly added, “…sir.”

Schaper fell silent. But Cass could feel his tense mood.

With every last fiber of concentration, Cass locked her mind upon the four green blips in her rear sensor display. In combat, Cass had noticed that Knanti pilots rarely fired at random. They were meticulous killers. She was betting that they were taking their time to line up their shots.

The beautiful young pilot flew even lower, now skimming less than twenty meters above the sea. Down here, the air was saturated with salt water and brine, which couldn’t be good for her ship’s engines. But Cass needed to press herself against the water as much as possible. The Knanti would be forced to attack her from directly above.

Beads of sweat were breaking out on Cass’s forehead. Her entire body was tensed.

Risking much, Cass glanced at her DoT, Distance to Target: The Knanti mothership was just **_forty kilometers away_** , due west. That was close, but not close enough. Those fighters would destroy the drone long before she got there.

For a fleeting millisecond, Cass’s thoughts wandered. _Red panda_ , she thought. Sometimes in the heat of battle, the most random notions would tumble through a pilot’s skull.

Now the fighters were at three kilometers, and almost directly overhead. In her scope, Cass saw them dive, and then fire their missiles. _It was time_.

Cass pulled the flight stick almost into her stomach as she slammed the throttle, the boosters, and every maneuvering thruster she had to MAXIMUM. The drone twisted, flipping on two axes as once, then shot skyward. Straight at the Knanti.

Yelling at the top of her lungs, Cass fired her forward cannons. The flight simulator’s holographic display lit up with a hundred explosions, as plasma charges tore through the cloud of Knanti missiles. Plasma supercharged the air, which set off the missiles’ warheads prematurely. The sky itself seemed to be exploding.

In the blink of an eye, the Knanti broke formation, scrambling to get out of Cass’s way. One of them veered too close to plasma fire, and exploded into a shower of red flame.

“ ** _Oh baby,_ THAT’S _how its done!_** ” Cass whooped, banking hard as she hurtled past the three disoriented Knanti raiders. She passed less than five meters of the lead fighter. The wake of her engine exhaust sent him into a tailspin.

Not waiting for the enemy to gather their wits, Cass hit her vent exhausts. A spacecraft like her drone ship built up a lot of radioactive hydrogen gas as a waste product from the fusion core. Normally, the ship captured that gas for environmental reasons, but now Cass wanted it scattered in the air. The gas would choke Knanti sensors.

Satisfied, the young pilot pulled on her flight stick again, rocketing into the clouds. She pointed her craft due west.

“That’s it, you got it, you got it!” General Schaper yelled, excitedly watching his monitor.

“ _General!_ ” Torchy’s alarmed voice came over the bunker intercom. “ _Long range is picking up multiple aircraft! Incoming! The Knanti know we’re at Eagles Point Base!_ ”

“Shit, shit, shit…!” the general cursed, checking the scans himself. “Cass, we’ve got **_less than ten minutes_** before this whole base is blasted into a smoking crater.”

“…roger that…” Cass replied, only half-listening.

Somewhere over the Pacific, her drone was rocketing toward the Knanti mothership. Cass could visually see it now; a vast cylinder of black alien metal, dotted with perhaps millions of tiny green lights. The enormous spacecraft hovered on the horizon, glaring at Cass through the holographic display.

A shrill alarm went off in Cass’s HUD. The engine’s liquid coolant was completely gone, and now her fusion engines were superheating. Systems across the drone ship were failing, one-by-one.

Cass swore when her sensor feed went dead. The other Knanti pilots were still behind her, but there was no way to know where.

 _Red panda!_ she thought in fury.

Meanwhile, General Schaper was issuing orders. “Torchy, get the transport ready to fly,” he demanded. “It’ll be a fast takeoff. Can we evade the hostiles?”

“ _I’ll lose ‘em,_ ” Torchy promised.

“Schaper out,” the general said, closing the com. He turned to Commander Jackson. “You guys can come with us, or get blown apart. Your choice.”

Cass did her best to block Schaper out. She had to focus. In her visual display, the Knanti mothership was growing quickly, less than a kilometer away. If only-

The drone ship rocked, and power levels dropped. She’d been hit!

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Cass hissed to herself, throwing her craft into a climb and then a rapid dive. The Knanti fighters must have been right on top of her. She could almost feel the heat of their engines.

“Cass, you gotta detonate, we gotta go!” shouted General Schaper. Already, Commander Jackson, his men, and Schaper’s marines were hurrying out of the bunker.

“…almost… there…” Cass grunted, still locking her concentration on her ship.

She was using every maneuver she could, almost throwing her flight stick about at random. Knanti plasma fire zipped by her on all sides; the enemy must have been just a few hundred meters off her tail! The mothership appeared as a great black wall before her, completely filling her display.

Time was up. Cass armed the drone’s thermonuclear warhead. The blast would literally be felt on all corners of the Earth, assuming she could ram her ship into the mothership’s guts.

The visual display flickered. Cass spotted a dome-like structure extending from the mothership’s side.

 _That looks important,_ she thought idly, and cut the stick.

The drone smashed into the dome at top speed.

The warhead detonated.

***** ***** *****


	2. Blue Octopus Cancels Red Panda

General Schaper’s forces had made their headquarters deep under the California Rocky Mountains, using laser torches to carve out a honeycomb of rooms, barracks, storage compartments, and equipment hangers in the solid rock. Now, the general was certain that a Knanti counterattack was eminent. He was ordering a complete evacuation.

The entire battalion, some three thousand men strong, was working overtime, packing up equipment, and loading the transports as fast as they could. It was a massive undertaking. Yet no-one grumbled. The Knanti’s wrath, they believed, would be terrible.

The only part of the base not being packed up was Schaper’s command center. The general and his comm team were watching their sensors and the network comm channels carefully. They had confirmed that Cass’s nuclear warhead had detonated; but what of the Knanti mothership? Had she been destroyed?

Frustratingly, the communications chatter on all channels seemed no different than yesterday, or the day before. It was almost as if… Cass’s attack had never happened.

***** ***** *****

Three levels down from the main hangers, Cass finally found the officer she was looking for. Staff Sergeant Owen Ribbos was supervising a small team of technicians, packing up the Computer Center. He looked weary. No doubt the sergeant had been on duty ever since the evac order was issued, over thirty-six hours ago.

“Owen!” Cass exclaimed, relieved to see him. “Hey, I gotta talk to you.”

“You guys,” Ribbos snapped at his men. “I told you to get the spare hardware bins out of storage and get those up to the freighters. We can’t replace that hardware. Get moving!”

His men grumbled, but hurried to obey.

“Sorry, Commander,” Ribbos mumbled to Cass, then rubbed his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to hypnotize me,” said Cass firmly. “Like, now.”

Ribbos stared at the beautiful young woman. “Now?” he repeated.

From studying a captured Knanti computer core, Ribbos had learned some of the alien’s brainwashing technology. It was an earlier hypnosis session with Cass that had protected her mind from being enslaved to the invaders’ subliminal programming.

“Yes, now,” frowned Cass. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Geez, Commander,” Ribbos groaned. “The men packed up the hypnosis equipment hours ago! I can’t even-“

“Owen,” Cass said, her tone hardening, “I was just flying against Knanti pilots, while using a synaptic interface. The tech staff was monitoring my synap feed… but its possible the Knanti were able to download a hypnotic file into my mind. I could be a sleeper agent, even now.”

Ribbos looked torn. “Yeah, but…”

“Owen,” Cass murmured, stepping closer, “ever since I finished that mission, I’ve been absently thinking, _red panda. Red panda, red panda_. Those two words keep popping into my mind. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe… its an old childhood memory? Synaptic links sometimes stir up things from one’s subconscious.”

“Maybe,” Cass allowed. “But, goddamnit, it freaks me out. I need you to go into my mind and make sure I’m not under Knanti influence. Or else I can’t trust myself.”

She gently laid a hand on Ribbos’s arm. “Please, Owen?”

***** ***** *****

Cass and Ribbos commandeered an emptied supply bunker. They shut the door, activated a power circuit, then set up Ribbos’s machines. Soon, Cass was sitting in a chair, staring into a hypnotizer computer pattern, listening to Ribbos deliver a mesmerizing set of instructions.

Cass slipped into a trance relatively quickly. She and Ribbos had learned that she was a difficult hypnotic subject, but the use of a neural stimulator helped calm her brain chemistry and make her unable to resist the sergeant’s commands. Soon, the beautiful pilot’s eyes were shut, she was limp in the chair, and drifting into the blissful sleep of awareness and obedience.

“And now, Commander,” Ribbos said carefully, “you are deeply hypnotized. You will follow and obey each instruction I place within your mind. Your subconscious cannot resist, even if it wants to.”

He paused, allowing his eyes to sweep over Cass’s still body. The young woman was just twenty-two, incredibly fit, and yet packed with curves that drove men wild. As she slumped forward, Ribbos could easily see the tops of Cass’s breasts, visible under her low-cut work shirt. Those breasts gently rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell as Cass breathed.

If Ribbos so ordered, Cass would awaken, strip off everything she wore, and suck his cock within an inch of his life. And she would remember nothing afterward. The thought was very tempting.

But Ribbos was a moral man. Cass was a natural leader, a real asset to General Schaper’s army. She was needed. Programming her for sex could, in theory, disrupt her mental health. He wouldn’t risk it.

Shoving aside lustful thoughts, Ribbos told his entranced subject, “And now, Commander, allow your subconscious to relax even deeper. As you do, I want you to imagine that you are doing a security sweep of your own mind, washing out any Knanti programming that might be in there. As of now, the Knanti have no power over you. Any suggestions they might have placed within your head are now gone, forever. You can never be hypnotized by the enemy again.”

The sergeant paused, thinking. “And now, Commander,” he ordered, “I will ask your subconscious mind some questions. You will sit up and automatically respond to every question without conscious thought. I will ask; your subconscious will answer; your mouth with automatically relay that response. You have no control over this operation. The instant I ask you anything, your subconscious must respond.”

“Now…” the sergeant-hypnotist continued, “tell me: What is _red panda?_ ”

Cass raised her head, her expression still completely blank. “I don’t know…” she said in a soft, dead voice.

Ribbos frowned. “Relax deeper, Commander. Focus. What is _red panda_?”

Cass was still for a moment. “I don’t know,” she repeated.

Chewing his lip, Ribbos thought quickly. He was no expert in hypnotism or psychology. Hell, he’d only learned about this hypnosis stuff in the few months he’d spent studying Knanti technology. But he recalled a few basics from his high school mental health class. A person’s subconscious, he knew, was an unpredictable, sticky thing. It could catch an errant thought out of the blue and elevate it to the heights of importance. Chances were that Cass once dreamed about a red panda, or something, and that fragment of a memory had bobbed up in her mind during the stress of battle.

Still, there was no point in taking chances.

“Listen carefully, Commander,” Ribbos told Cass. “From now on, the phrase or idea ‘ _red panda’_ has no effect on you. You will find that you no longer focus on this phrase, and that it no longer clutters up your thoughts. ‘ _Red’_ and _‘panda’_ are now merely two random words, nothing more. If the Knanti have anything to do with those words, their power is now gone forever from your mind.”

Another thought occurred to the Staff Sergeant. “One more thing, Commander. If you ever find that the words ‘ _red panda’_ are having an effect on you, all you need do is think the phrase…” Ribbos paused, quickly selecting a favorite cartoon animal from childhood. “…the phrase ‘ _blue octopus’_ will instantly and completely cancel all effects of ‘ _red panda’_. _Blue octopus_ cancels _red panda_.”

Ribbos paused to take a sip of water.

“And now,” he told his entranced subject, “I will count to ten. As I do, you will come out of hypnosis completely, with all of my suggestions taking full effect in your mind. Ready? Here we go. Ten…”

***** ***** *****

Cass opened her eyes, her thoughts still a foggy mess. She felt peaceful, relaxed, and almost tranquilized.

“How do you feel?” a masculine voice said beside her.

Her wits returning, the beautiful young pilot absently rubbed her face. Now she remembered. She had asked Ribbos to hypnotize her. She always felt disoriented when coming out of a trance.

Cass stretched, then sat up in her chair. She looked at Sergeant Ribbos carefully.

“I don’t remember anything,” she confessed. “Er, did the hypnotism work?”

“You were out for about an hour,” Ribbos told her. “You’ll remember the session, in bits and pieces. Give it time.”

“So weird…” mumbled Cass, shaking her head. “So: _Red panda?_ ”

The Staff Sergeant shrugged. “It meant nothing to your subconscious.”

“Okay,” Cass acknowledged, secretly disappointed. She rubbed her temple, thinking. Some of her time in trance was coming back to her.

Ribbos studied her face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Oh sure,” Cass replied. “Its just that… Jesus, when I’m under and you’re in my head… its like you completely control my mind. I can’t resist anything you tell me.”

“The Knanti form of hypnosis is especially powerful.”

“Fuckin’ A,” Cass agreed. She shook her head again, firmly. “Here, I’ll help you pack this shit up.”

The Commander and Sergeant rose and went to work disassembling Ribbos’ hypnosis machine. There was a considerable amount of equipment; Ribbos used a specialized computer monitor, a neural projector and scanner, a medicalculator, a captured Knanti computer core, and a portable generator.

The two officers worked in silence for a few minutes. But Cass found that her thoughts were troubled. It was hard to focus on the task at hand.

“Owen,” the beautiful pilot finally said, ”tell me something: Once a person’s been owned by the Knanti, how long would it take for them to regain their free will?”

“You’re okay,” Ribbos assured his subject. He finished shutting down the computers. “You and I have done, what, five intense counterhypnotism sessions on you? The long-term job the Knanti did on your mind has been canceled.”

“No, I mean how long would **_someone else_** need to recover?”

Ribbos frowned, glancing over at Cass. “Depends. You have someone in mind?”

“My copilot, Bex. I had to leave her on Resistance. Before the fuckers got into her head, she and I were like sisters.”

“Oh, yeah,” nodded the sergeant. “You’ve mentioned her.”

“How long, Owen?”

Ribbos thought for a moment as he disconnected power cables. “I dunno. It depends. In theory, it should only take a microsecond for a hypnotized person to reassert their independent will. But the Knanti technology is insidious. The longer a person is exposed, the more they are enslaved. Your friend could need months of therapy before she’s herself again. But… I gotta say it… it could also be too late for her.”

“Too late?” echoed Cass.

“Hypnotic instructions compound over time,” the young man explained. “The more you’re fed a hypnotic suggestion, the more power it gains within your mind. At some point, I’m sure the Knanti’s victims are forever impaired.”

Cass shuddered. Whenever Ribbos hypnotized her, it was like his voice dominated her will. What would it be like, she wondered, to be in a permanent state of hypnosis, with the Knanti’s voices forever in one’s head?

Outside the empty supply room, the base intercom suddenly crackled to life. “ _Attention,_ ” it coughed. “ _All senior staff, report to the Command Center. All senior staff to the Command Center, immediately. That is all._ ”

“You’d better get up there, Commander,” Ribbos advised Cass. “I’ll finish packing up.”

“Thanks,” said Cass, and she was off.

***** ***** *****

The Command Center was an unimpressive chamber with desks and computers arranged in a semi-military formation. General Schaper was not one for organizational tidiness, and this was why the place had a haphazard feel to it. The officer in charge of Missile Command sat directly next to the Chief Engineering Officer, who sat next to the guy who monitored the reactor core and watched over the duty shifts. Cass hated the disorganized feel of this room… but it was how Schaper liked to operate.

At the center of the cramped room, General Schaper himself leaned over a standard-issue conference table. Paper maps were spread across the table, another eccentric favorite of the General’s. A commbox was off to the side, softly playing verbal messages captured from the Defense network. About a dozen senior officers stood around the table, waiting for the meeting to start.

As Cass hurried to join her peers, Schaper scowled down at the maps. “Alright,” he rumbled. “Let’s get started.”

“So, here’s what we know from eavesdropping on High Command’s comm traffic,” the General continued, folding his arms behind his back. “Thanks be to God, Commander Tarran here engaged the Knanti mothership and successfully delivered her warhead. The robot drone punctured the Knanti mothership’s hull, then detonated. Most of the blast was absorbed within the ship’s superstructure.”

“Yes!” Colonel Marreck grinned, pumping his fists in the air. Relieved grins broke out among the other officers.

“Hold on,” Schaper said darkly. “The mothership is severely damaged, but not destroyed. The Knanti within survived. Currently, they are…” The general leaned over a great map of the Pacific, and tapped a position north of the Solomon Islands. “…here. And now, the Knanti are redeploying to evacuate themselves off their ship.”

Smiles around the table faded.

“Sir,” said Marreck, “we know the Knanti are quantum energy beings. They can’t survive in Earth’s environment. Where can they possibly go?”

“I don’t know,” Schaper replied heavily. “Without the technology of the mothership, they should be doomed.”

The room fell silent as the officers contemplated this information.

“There is some good news,” the general went on. “It seems that the damage to the mothership is too extensive to repair. So the Knanti are putting all their energy into saving their own quantum skins before it becomes a dead hulk. This is why they haven’t come after us – yet.” His voice grew heavy. “But they will.”

Colonel Jaggae, a native African, drew a hand across his face. “We know that once the Knanti brainwashed High Command, they turned their attention to hypnotizing the civilian governments. Any idea how extensive their success has been?”

“No idea whatsoever,” General Schaper admitted. “We can’t trust anybody.”

Cass was studying the map, a frown on her face. “Sir?” she asked.

“Yes, Commander.”

Cass wanted to know, “Do we know the position of the USR Resistance?”

Eyes around the table fell on the beautiful young pilot. Everyone knew that Resistance was Cass’s former posting, and that she mourned the great ship’s capture. They also knew that Cass was sick with worry for her former crewmates, especially her old Firetail squadron.

General Schaper shifted on his feet. “Resistance is moored here,” he rumbled, tapping Hong Kong on the map. “The aliens used its Marines to seize control of the city.”

“Then that’s where the Knanti are going,” Cass declared, thinking quickly. “So that’s where we need eyes and ears.”

Schaper cocked his head to one side. “What’re you suggesting, Commander?”

“Sir,” Cass said, straightening her spine, “assign me a dedicated strike team, all with computer skills. We’ll get hypnotized by Sergeant Ribbos to protect our minds from Knanti brainwashing. Then we’ll high-tail it to Hong Kong and allow ourselves to be captured. The Knanti will try to mesmerize us, of course, and we’ll allow them to think they’ve succeeded.

“After that, we’ll be integrated into the crew of Resistance. We’ll be able to access the ship’s logs, communication records, the tactical database. Any of those things would be valuable to you, sir.”

“That’s true,” acknowledged General Schaper. “We have next to no intel. But just getting on board isn’t going to be enough, Commander. All of those systems you mentioned are secured and monitored.”

“That’s why I need computer experts, sir,” Cass pressed. “Once we’re on board, maybe a member of my team can hack Resistance’s computer cores from the lower decks. I don’t know. We’ll have to improvise once we get there.”

“I don’t like it, sir,” Colonel Marreck interjected. “We can’t allow a member of your senior staff to be captured, no matter what the circumstances.”

“Agreed,” seconded Colonel Jaggae. “What if the Knanti don’t hypnotize you? What if they elect to torture you instead? You could give up our location, our strength, everything.”

“Well…” Cass mused. “Yeah, it’s a risk. General, you’re already evac’ing the troops. My team and I could be hypnotized to forget the new base’s coordinates. Or you could give us a retroneuro to physically erase the knowledge from our brains.”

General Schaper gazed at Cass, his jaw set. “You’re certain Ribbos can hypno-proof your mind?” he asked.

“Its how I escaped the Knanti last time, sir.”

Schaper leaned over the table, his hard eyes studying Cass carefully. “This mission is almost certainly a one-way ticket, Cassandra,” he said softly. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Cass didn’t flinch from his gaze. “Yes sir.”

The general nodded gravely. “Alright. Jaggae, assemble your intelligence guys. Explain the plan and its risks. Then ask for volunteers. Pick people with hacking experience, and then transfer them to Commander Tarran’s command. No more than five recruits, hear me?”

“Yessir,” Colonel Jaggae nodded.

“You’ll have to broadcast your reports to us in a way that we hear it but the Knanti don’t notice,” Schaper told Cass. “Any idea how you’ll do that?”

“Er, no, sir,” Cass admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

The general shook his head. “I really hate this plan,” he sighed. “But I’ve got nothing better to suggest. If anyone has any better suggestions…?”

No-one spoke.

“Then you have your orders, Commander,” Schaper said heavily. “Good luck, and Godspeed.”

***** ***** *****

Staff Sargent Ribbos had just finished packing up his hypnotism equipment when word came that he had to mesmerize six people, all right away. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he cried. “You have any idea how long it takes to-“

“Look, I’m sorry, but we need to get this done, Owen,” Cass replied firmly. “C’mon, I’ll help you set up again.”

The more she thought about it, the more anxious Cass became about the road before her. The Knanti were not ones to waste time. No doubt they were furiously calculating, hatching plans within plans within plans. The longer Cass was delayed, the more the situation might have changed by the time she got to Hong Kong.

But there was another reason weighing on the young Commander.

USR Resistance was in Hong Kong. That meant – hopefully – that Bex was also in Hong Kong. If it was even remotely possible, Cass was going to find Bex and rescue her. Kicking and screaming, if need be.

***** ***** *****

“From now on,” Sergeant Ribbos intoned, “the Knanti can never plant suggestions within your mind. Your subconscious will automatically resist anything they command you to do. But at all times, you will be able to act as if you are under their control and fool them.”

In the hypnosis chair sat Lieutenant Callanti, a young, thin woman of Italian descent. The lieutenant was completely motionless, her eyes closed, her expression blank, her mind in a deep hypnotic trance. She gave no indication that she heard anything Ribbos was saying to her.

Cass and the rest of her new strike team watched from a meter away. They’d each had a turn in the chair, and Ribbos had hypnotized them all, one-by-one. Now Callanti was the last to receive her protective programming.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Sergeant Bilks, standing behind Cass. “Did I look that zonked out when I was under?”

“Yeah,” Sergeant Tasna whispered back. “Except you drooled all over yourself.”

“Shh!” hissed Cass. “Silence!”

“And in a moment, I will snap my fingers,” Ribbos told the entranced Callanti. “When I do, you will awaken, remembering nothing. But all my commands will remain within your mind, and will protect you forever. Forever.” He clicked his fingers together.

Slowly, Lieutenant Callanti roused herself. “Sorry… my thoughts musta wandered…” she mumbled sheepishly. “So, are we going to do the hypnotism now?”

***** ***** *****

It took some doing, but Cass was able to pull rank and appropriate a small airshuttle from Hanger Control. “But we’ve moving the entire base!” the hanger manager protested. “I can’t authorize you to take a ship!”

“General’s orders,” Cass told him, rather unsympathetically. “My team and I depart within fifteen minutes; have the shuttle ready to go.” She stalked out of the manager’s office before he could object.

She was hoping to stop back in Central Command, if only to check the weather conditions in Hong Kong. But there wasn’t time. The weather simply couldn’t be worried about. Cass was relying on pure luck from this point on out.

***** ***** *****

The airshuttle was old and cramped, but there was enough room for six people. Cass herself assumed the controls, as she couldn’t fathom letting anyone else fly. “Everyone strapped in?” she yelled as she fired up the antigravs. “Next stop, Hong Kong!”

The little craft lifted off slowly. Cass carefully maneuvered within the hanger, then swung out into the open skies in a gentle arc. The shuttle handled well enough for a light transport craft.

“Pardon me, Commander?” Lieutenant Callanti asked.

“Hold on…” said Cass, locking the Geocoordinates for Hong Kong into the Nav computer. “Okay, what’s up?”

“There wasn’t much time for a proper briefing. What can we expect in Hong Kong?”

This was a very reasonable question. Cass sighed.

“Well, I’m not sure, to be honest,” she replied, reviewing the autopilot program. “I assume we’ll land, we’ll find Resistance anchored in the harbor, and then… we’ll simply try to go aboard.”

Cass’s strike team said nothing. But she could sense their discomfort.

“So when we present ourselves, I’m sure the Resistance crew will put us under arrest,” Cass told them. “Then, they’ll try to hypnotize us, probably by making us put on a synaptic interface loaded with the Knanti brainwashing program.”

“How do we fool them?” Sergeant Bilks wanted to know. “I mean, after we’re supposed to have been mindwiped.”

“Again, not certain,” admitted Cass. She thought back to her last encounter with the Firetails. “The compromised Resistance crew referred to the Knanti as ‘The Masters.’ My old shipmates seemed to revere the Knanti as loving gods. They acted almost tranquilized.” She shrugged. “I dunno. Just follow my lead and try to blend in as much as possible.”

“And once we’re on board Resistance?” Sergeant Tasna wanted to know. “I recommend we assume that we’ll be separated.”

“Why?” Cass asked, alarmed at this notion.

“Well, it will look suspicious if we remain a group,” pointed out Tasna. “Everyone should all assume that you’ll have to operate independently.”

“That’s a good point,” Lieutenant Callanti agreed.

“I got one more question,” said Sergeant Bilks. “What if the protective hypnosis treatment we got from Ribbos doesn’t work?”

There was a grim moment as everyone contemplated this possibility.

“Then we’re fucked,” Cass replied ruefully. “But if we do nothing, humanity is fucked. We have to risk it.”

They made the remainder of the journey in silence. Cass decided not to engage the autopilot.

***** ***** *****


	3. Hong Kong

Once, as a young teenager, Cass had visited Hong Kong. She remembered the city as a glorious collection of glittering skyscrapers gathered before a wide, sparkling bay. She’d been amazed to wander the streets, craning her neck in all directions to take in as many wonders as possible.

Now, as her small airshuttle descended into the nighttime Hong Kong airspace, Cass realized much had changed, and not for the better. Most of the city was without power. The few buildings that did have lights on were right against the water. Cass could spot military patrol ships hovering over the dark sections of town, and bright search beams were repeatedly roaming the sky.

“The Knanti took the most valuable parts of the city,” observed Lieutenant Callanti, “and left everyone else to starve.”

In the harbor, an enormous vessel was birthed against one of the larger docks. Cass’s heart leapt: it was the Resistance! The massive carrier had deactivated most of her running lights, and there were no aircraft that Cass could spot on the flight deck. Thick power plasma cords ran from the Resistance’s bow and into the city.

The airshuttle’s comm crackled to life. “ _Attention, courier vessel!_ ” a male voice barked. “ _This is Hong Kong Greater Authority. You are not transmitting a valid ID signature. Identify yourself._ ”

Cass slapped the mic controls. “Authority, this is Commander Cassandra Tarran, formerly of USR Resistance. Service number GA-3942-4827-CTN. Request permission to land, please respond?”

There was a slight pause.

“ _Your military status is ‘Deserted,’ Commander,_ ” the voice said, curdling with displeasure.

“The Masters’ commands had not reached my mind before,” Cass lied, hoping she sounded suitably reverent. “But now I cannot resist their call. I wish to rejoin my brothers and sisters.”

“ _We all must serve and obey the Masters,_ ” the male voice agreed. “ _Very well, Commander, come about to 30-22 mark 2. Stay on that course, and then land on Resistance, HPOV pad 8. Do not deviate. I’m dispatching an escort craft. I serve and obey the Masters._” The com clicked off.

“Fuck, that was creepy,” shivered Sergeant Bilks.

“But that’s how we have to talk,” Cass said with determination. “Everyone get me? ‘ _I serve and obey the Masters._ ’ Get used to saying that.”

***** ***** *****

Within a few minutes, Cass was easing the airshuttle down onto one of Resistance’s HPOV pads. It was eerie to see the great carrier now. Normally, the flight deck would be fully lit and crowded with enlisted men, all toiling away like ants. Now, the ship looked to be nearly deserted, with only a few safety lights activated.

A deck gun swiveled to track the shuttle, however. Someone was watching.

Once the little craft had set down, Cass quickly disengaged the engine and powered off its fusion core.

“Look,” said Sergeant Tasna.

Through the front windshield, the spies could see a squad of fully-armed Marines, hurrying to their position. The soldiers looked grim.

“Here we go,” Cass said softly, then opened the shuttle’s hatch.

***** ***** *****

Cass and her team were pressed into wrist binders and marched into a large maintenance bay on Resistance’s starboard side. Most of the original machinery that once occupied this bay had been removed. Now, there was a long table with folding chairs, and next to that, a strange silver device, circular with green lights blinking in random patterns. The device was as tall as a man, and nearly twice as thick.

As Cass and her fellow rebels were held at gunpoint, a hatch from deeper within the Resistance opened. A tall officer and several white-coated medical technicians entered, each looking over Cass with sour expressions. Cass thought she knew that officer. He was… Lieutenant Commander Barrow? Of Strategic Ops Command? Yeah, that was it.

As Commander Barrow turned, Cass noted a small silver device, connected to his temple. It flickered with tiny green lights.

In fact, now that Cass looked, all the Resistance crewmembers wore the same device. The little gizmos blinked silently.

Barrow stood before Cass, scrutinizing her carefully. “Commander Tarran,” he said coolly. “You return to us. How fortunate.”

“I wish to serve the Masters,” Cass told him.

“And so you shall,” replied Barrows. “And you’ve brought other crewmembers? Fortunate.”

“These were officers with General Schaper,” offered Cass. “I met up with them, and tricked them into using my synaptic interface. Now they will serve the Masters, too.”

“Hmm,” was all Barrows said. His expression was unreadable. “Very well, we’ll fit you with transmitters. The Masters want us to wear these at all times,” he explained, indicating the little device on his temple. “This way, they can monitor us and send commands directly into our thoughts. It makes obedience to them so much easier.”

Cass could tell that her team was tensing up. Silently, she willed them to remain calm. Panicking now would only reveal their deception to the Resistance crew and doom their mission.

“Now,” Barrows said crisply, “you all must have a full cognitive scan before we fit you with transmitters. Its nothing serious, but the Masters will it.” He pointed to Sergeant Tasna. “You. You’ll go first.”

“Ah, yes, sir,” Tasna replied, looking positively ill.

Two meditechs moved to the large silver machine, fussing over the controls. Cass watched uncomfortably as a silver cone on a robot arm unfolded from the top of machine.

“Stand there,” Barrows ordered Tasna, pointing to a spot before the cone. “Remain still.”

With little alternative, the sergeant complied. The cone swung about to point directly at his skull.

“Go,” Barrows ordered the meditechs. They hit a collection of buttons.

The machine emitted a low hum. Cass watched as Sergeant Tasna seemed to lose all expression. Was he playing along? Cass hoped so.

“Scan complete,” one of the meditechs announced.

“Get your transmitter,” Commander Barrows ordered Tasna. He pointed at Sergeant Bilks. “You! You’re next.”

In quick succession, every member of Cass’s team was scanned. Then the technicians fitted an identical transmitter to the side of everyone’s head. Cass noted that Lieutenant Callanti gasped, just a little, as her transmitter was attached. Then her face went entirely blank.

“Finally, you, Commander,” Barrows said, indicating Cass.

Swallowing her apprehension, Cass moved to the scanning machine. The cone swiveled to point at her… and then there was an odd stuffiness within her mind. It was as if, for just a moment, Cass’s thoughts were frozen within her skull.

Then the sensation passed. “Move along,” instructed Barrows.

Cass walked to the meditechs, feeling a little light-headed. The techs carefully pressed a transmitter to Cass’s temple, and then Cass felt the little device stick onto her skin. The tiny machine was cool but had no noticeable weight. Cass felt a slight buzzing as it scanned her cerebrum.

“Finished,” a meditech nodded to Commander Barrows. “Everyone’s now receiving the Masters’ wisdom.”

“Very good,” the commander replied, pleased. “Now, force-download the latest obedience program.”

The tiny green lights on everyone’s transmitter blinked. For an instant, Cass’s thoughts vanished.

 _You must serve and obey the Masters,_ a thought within her mind said to her. _The Masters serve and love you, and you must return that love to them. Total obedience to the Masters is necessary. You want nothing but to obey the Masters every wish. You must serve and obey the Masters._

“I serve and obey the Masters,” Cass heard herself saying aloud. Every human in the room had said it in unison with her.

Fear swept over the beautiful young pilot. Was she…?

No. Cass was still thinking independently. She could remember General Schaper, Sergeant Ribbos, her mission, and how much she hated the Knanti. She let that hatred burn.

“Very good, very good,” Commander Barrows smiled mildly. “The Masters will be pleased. Now, our newest recruits need work.”

He picked up a computer tablet from the table, and quickly rummaged about in Resistance’s database.

“We will do a more thorough evaluation of your skill sets later,” Barrows said absently. “But for now, I will give you assignments myself. You, you head down to Turbine Maintenance,” he instructed Sergeant Bilks.

“I serve and obey the Masters,” Bilks replied in a blank voice, then he departed into the bay.

One-by-one, every member of Cass’s team were assigned departments within Resistance. It stung Cass’s dignity when she was selected to work in Laundry.

“I serve and obey the Masters,” she told Commander Barrows anyway, then retreated to the corridor.

***** ***** *****

Resistance’s hallways were silent, empty, and half-illuminated. Cass felt uneasy. _This is like a tortured dream,_ she thought uncomfortably. Resistance used to be the flagship and mobile headquarters of High Command; she was used to the corridors bustling with hundreds of personnel. It was unsettling to hear only the echo of one’s footsteps on the metal deck.

Cass turned a corner, and bumped into Lieutenant Callanti, who looked as if she was deliberately lingering. “Commander!” Callanti whispered as Cass approached.

Cass glanced about. The two women were alone… but the security cameras could be watching them.

“Lieutenant,” Cass said coolly. “Walk with me. How do you feel?”

“Fine,” frowned Callanti. “But this transmitter on my head… its weird.”

“I know what you mean,” Cass nodded.

“I feel normal, and like myself,” the lieutenant fretted, “but then, without warning, I’m suddenly thinking about… food. Or working on the ship. Or about the Masters.”

“Yeah, same,” admitted Cass. “I think those are the hypnotic suggestions being downloaded into your mind. You have to resist them. Ribbos’s work should protect you, but-“

Both women flinched.

“I just had the urge to… join the cleaning staff,” Callanti exclaimed.

“Me too,” winced Cass. “Just stay focused.” She looked about. “We’re in Section 32. We need a Restricted computer access terminal… Hmm. Oh, I know. C’mon.”

And the two women moved down the corridor.

***** ***** *****

After twenty minutes of winding through the ship, Cass and Callanti arrived in the Command Deck’s main corridor. Like the rest of the ship, it appeared to be deserted.

“Jesus, this is just… weird,” scowled Cass.

“What?” Callanti asked nervously.

“Command Deck shouldn’t ever be emptied,” replied Cass, almost annoyed. “Uh, never mind.” She rubbed her chin, looking about. “Ah, there.”

There was a sensor monitoring room, just across the way. Cass strode over, quickly tapping her access code into the security panel. The hatch unlocked.

After she stepped inside, the beautiful young Commander paused. Not that long ago, while she was under Knanti influence, she’d lured Lieutenant Tyedye into this very room, then fucked the shit out of him. Now Cass cringed at the memory. Poor Tyedye. He’d been brainwashed, then transferred to the mothership. Cass hoped he was still alive.

“What?” Callanti said, puzzled by Cass’s hesitation.

Cass scowled. “Nothing, nothing. Look, this computer isn’t much of an access terminal, but can you use it to access the ship’s Restricted information?”

Looking skeptical, Callanti lowered herself into the command chair. “This is a sensor monitoring station, Commander,” she said. “It’s for lower-level officers. There isn’t even a tie-in to the Secured Computer Cores.”

“Fuck,” frowned Cass.

She was about to ask another question when another door in the corridor opened. Multiple footsteps approached.

Cass stiffened. Commander Harrington, Resistance’s Second Officer, was approaching, along with four male lieutenants. The men approached, suspicion on their faces. The alien transmitters on the side of their heads blinked angrily.

Caught in the act, Cass and Callanti could only jump to attention.

“What’re you ladies doing?” Commander Harrington asked warily. “I thought we shut down all the sensors pods on this deck.”

Cass had to think fast. “But… we may need to reactivate them, sir,” she offered. “The lieutenant and I were looking into that feasibility.”

Harrington frowned deeply. “I hadn’t heard that.”

Cass went for broke. “It is the will of the Masters,” she said.

Immediately, Harrington’s eyes widened. “Of course,” he murmured. “I serve and obey the Masters.”

At that moment, Cass distinctively felt the need to… return to the flight deck. Her transmitter had injected another desire into her mind.

Harrington and his lieutenants all blinked at the same time. They’d felt the hypnotic compulsion, too.

“We should return to the flight deck. The Masters require us to prepare a transport,” Harrington exclaimed. To Cass, he nodded, “Very well. Carry on with your assignment, Commander.”

And with that, the senior officer moved off down the corridor, his men dutifully following him.

“Oh my God…!” Callanti exhaled slowly, her breath trembling. “I thought we were fucked for sure.”

“Yeah…” Cass agreed, watching the brainwashed officers depart. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Follow me.”

***** ***** *****

The security doors slid open.

“Oh my God,” Lieutenant Callanti said in wonder and she and Cass stepped forward.

They were now standing on Resistance’s bridge, an enormous room filled with computer terminals, a raised platform for the captain, and a panoramic view of the flight deck through plexishield glass windows. Large tactical displays hung from the ceiling, currently showing the air traffic over greater Hong Kong. Only five crewmembers were at workstations, although there were more than one hundred terminals in total.

In the rare circumstances when Cass had visited the bridge, it had always been packed with officers, all diligently working on those computers. Regulations stated that the bridge had to be fully manned at all times, unless Resistance was in drydock.

“Hey, what is this?” a lieutenant cried, rising from the command chair on the captain’s platform.

Cass looked him square in the eye. “We have to review all ship’s log data and communications,” she told him. “Then, we’ll have to make some transmissions. It is the will of the Masters.”

“Oh,” the lieutenant exclaimed, impressed. “Take the Primary Security computer stations, then. Over there.”

“Thanks,” replied Cass. “I serve and obey the Masters.”

“I serve and obey the Masters,” agreed the lieutenant, and he returned to his seat.

Impressed, Callanti moved to the Security station. “I can’t believe that worked,” she murmured, pulling up the computer’s interface.

“The Knanti are a hierarchical society,” glowered Cass. “A massive hive. The only ones with independent thought are the handful of leaders at the top. Everyone else is a mindless drone. That includes their hypnotized slaves.” She shook her head in disgust. “I should have seen that weakness earlier.”

“I’ll need your access code, Commander,” Callanti realized.

Cass leaned over the lieutenant, tapping her passwords into the system.

“There,” Callanti grinned. “Full access.”

“Go,” ordered Cass.

Callanti’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Her smile faded. “Commander… there’s nothing here.”

Cass was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“There’s nothing,” repeated Callanti in disbelief. “Look: The ship’s officers dutifully recorded logs and filed reports right up until… October 19th.”

“October 19th. That was the day the Knanti seized the ship,” Cass muttered. She remembered that day. Vividly.

“Well, ever since then, the crew hasn’t entered a scrap of information put into the computers,” said Callanti, double-checking. “Yeah. No logs, no reports, no scans run, no diagnostics, no backups with headquarters… nothing. Goddamn nothing!”

“How is that fucking possible?” demanded Cass.

Then it hit her: The Knanti wouldn’t care about routine ship operations. They would use their transmitters to control their hypnotized crew, and Resistance’s extensive computers would be neglected.

“I mean… there’s some background logs, things like the record of the ship’s position,” Callanti reported. “But nothing entered by a human being.” She looked up at Cass, fear in her eyes. “Commander, this is all useless.”

Cass felt the weight of the universe press down upon her.

“Fuck…!” she moaned softly.

***** ***** *****


	4. We Welcome You

As Cass and Lieutenant Callanti stared in dismay at the Security Monitors, both women had a sudden powerful urge. Cass gasped slightly… She wanted to go down to the Starboard Maintenance Hanger. She wanted to go, very badly.

“Commander…!” moaned Callanti.

At a glance, Cass knew the lieutenant felt the same compulsion she did. Callanti was gripping the arms of her command chair as if she was afraid she might be whisked away by a powerful wind.

Cass closed her eyes, wishing this desire would simply… go… away.

“Everyone,” the officer on duty called from the captain’s platform. “The entire crew is to report to the Starboard Maintenance Hanger. This is the will of the Masters.”

“I serve and obey the Masters,” the few crewmembers replied, almost in unison. As one, they abandoned their workstations and moved toward the bridge doors.

Cass and Callanti quickly added, “I serve and obey the Masters,” themselves, then followed the small crowd. Cass heard Callanti sigh in contentment; obedience to the mental summons felt **_good_**.

***** ***** *****

Before Resistance was enslaved, the Starboard Maintenance Hanger was once where Firetail Squadron landed their spacefighters. The vast, cavernous room was large enough to hold twenty military aircraft, at least.

But when Cass entered the hanger, she could see that all vehicles, save one lone transport, had been removed. The transport idled, ready for takeoff.

Perhaps twenty meters from the transport, about two hundred crewmembers stood on the deck, quietly chatting amongst themselves. It was bizarre, because officers and enlisted mingled freely. That would **_never_** happen under normal circumstances. Never. Cass couldn’t help but notice; everyone here was wearing a Knanti transmitter.

“What do you think is going on?” Cass muttered to Callanti. “You didn’t trip some computer alarm, or something, did you?”

Callanti didn’t respond. She seemed distracted.

“Commanding Officer on Deck!” a man’s voice yelled out.

Her military training taking over, Cass snapped to attention. None of the other Resistance people did, but neither did they seem to notice her. Embarrassed, Cass relaxed.

Commander Harrington approached the assembled crowd. “Everyone!” he bellowed. “We have a new directive from the Masters. I need all sexually attractive females to stand forward.”

Cass blinked. Not even in her cadet days, where hazing was common, had she heard **_that_** order before.

Nonetheless, the crew seemed unphased. In fact, several young women were approaching Harrington, seemingly happy to do so. Cass frowned. What was-

Wait!

Cass’s heart leapt. There, moving to stand beside Commander Harrington, was Bex. **_Bex!_** Cass’s former copilot!

Bex was young, twenty-two years old, the same age was Cass. She was a slender Irish beauty, with light brown hair and sharp green eyes. Before Bex had joined the military, she’d let her hair grow long and curly. Now it looked like she was working to attain her old locks; Bex clearly had skipped her last regulation haircut. Although Bex was ranked as Lieutenant, she was wearing the tight coveralls and boots of a maintenance worker. The tight garment clung to Bex’s thin frame, clearly showing off her chest, hips, flat stomach, and rear end. An alien transmitter blinked on the side of Bex’s head.

Seeing Bex alive after nearly a month wrenched at Cass’s heart.

“Wait here,” she ordered Lieutenant Callanti, then hurried to join the other women at Commander Harrington’s side.

***** ***** *****

Commander Harrington was looking over the women assembled, nodding with approval. “I’ll take… you, you, you, and you guys,” he said, pointing out perhaps a dozen beauties from the crowd. “Also, you.” And here, he pointed at Bex.

Bex visibly blushed.

“That is all, everyone, company dismissed!” Harrington cried out. “Selected ladies, get on the transport!”

Cass had joined the group of women too late to have been picked. She cursed inwardly as Bex turned away from her, marching off with the other chosen women.

 _Fuck it_ , the beautiful young pilot thought.

As if there was nothing unusual in any of this, Cass simply joined the other women. She walked behind Bex, and boarded the transport. A squad of fully-armed Marines piled in after her, and then Commander Harrington himself. The transport was filled to near-capacity.

Harrington blinked in surprise when he saw Cass. “But I didn’t pick you…” he stared to say.

“It’s the will of the Masters,” interrupted Cass.

“Ah,” the Commander smiled. “Ah, yes. Of course.”

“ _All hands, prepare for takeoff,_ ” the transport pilot advised over the intercom.

The transport’s access hatch shut and sealed. Cass felt the cabin pressurize, and the deck began to vibrate as the fusion core transferred power to the vertical jets. Everyone scrambled into a seat and buckled in.

By luck, Bex had claimed a seat with no-one across from her. Cass hopped and squeezed her way through the packed cabin, accidently stepping on toes and mumbling apologies as she went. It took almost a full minute until she was standing before her old copilot.

“Bex!” Cass exclaimed, unable to repress the relief she felt.

Bex looked up, and her green Irish eyes widened in delight. “Cassandra!”

Inside, Cass flinched, just a little. Bex had never called her ‘ _Cassandra_ ’ before. Usually, she was addressed as ‘ _Boss_ ’ or ‘ _Commander_ ’ or even ‘ _sir_.’ Never ‘ _Cassandra_.’

Now that Cass searched Bex’s face, there was a certain spacey look in her old copilot’s eyes. But Bex’s smile was genuine.

Cass decided to focus on the positive. “Man, its good to see you,” she enthused, strapping herself into the seat opposite Bex. The transport was so compact, the two women’s knees were almost touching.

The transport shuddered, then was rising into the air. Cass couldn’t see much out a porthole, but she could tell they were maneuvering out of the Maintenance Hanger.

“Cassandra, you’re here!” Bex grinned. “This is awesome!” Her bright smile faded. “But I thought you were one of the resisters…?”

Lying carefully, Cass shrugged and responded. “I was, at first. But the Masters’ hypnotic program was delayed in my mind. I came to my senses shortly after Resistance was taken.” With emphasis, she added, “I serve and obey the Masters.”

“Oh, that’s great,” said Bex, and she seemed relieved. “I serve and obey the Masters,” she told Cass enthusiastically.

The transport pilot banked slightly, and then the little craft accelerated into the sky. They were free and clear from Resistance.

Cass willed herself to relax. Now that she’d made contact with Bex, could she snap her copilot out of her trance? Bex would know the Knanti’s darkest plans. She would be an invaluable ally! First, Cass would have to get Bex alone, and then pull that transmitter off her head. Then-

Bex hesitated, her expression momentarily going blank. Her transmitter blinked merrily.

“Cassandra,” Bex chirped, “how long was it before the Masters’ happiness entered your mind? Did you hear about their plans for the Glorious Times?”

“Glorious Times? Oh, of course,” bluffed Cass. “I long for the Glorious Times.”

“No, you don’t,” Bex smiled sweetly. “You’re here as a spy, Cassandra, working for the non-believers. But we can turn your mind very easily.”

With a thud in her chest, Cass realized that everyone in the transport’s cabin was now watching her.

“A spy? No,” assured Cass. “I serve and obey-“

“Red panda,” Bex said plainly.

Cass’s thoughts rocked. For an instant, _she longed to be hypnotized, to accept the Truth of the Masters and become their grateful slave._ Cass blinked, confused.

“Ah, you now understand,” Bex told her. “You see, the Masters never forgot about you. You’re Cassandra Tarran, the Firetail who got away. They’ve been watching and waiting for you. So when you wore a synaptic interface while piloting the drone ship, they were ready for you.”

“Bex,” said Cass, holding up her hands, “I don’t know what you’re-“

“Red panda.”

Once again, Cass felt _the sweet longing to serve the Masters. Her mind was a blank, waiting for the loving aliens to fill her with devotion and obedience. She would become their thrall, utterly committed to doing whatever they desired…_

With effort, the beautiful young Commander wrenched herself back into reality. Dread ate at her.

Bex leaned forward. “The Masters knew you were using counterhypnotism to resist their power. So they developed a special, customized hypnotic control just for you, Cassandra. A program that would be implanted so deeply within your subconscious, no amount of counterprogramming could deactivate it. And while you were flying the drone ship, the Masters transmitted that program into your mind.”

Cass felt her mouth run dry.

“The program is locked with a password,” Bex said sweetly. “ _Red panda._ ”

Once again, Cass was seized with _the desire to worship and obey the Masters. How ashamed she was of her earlier disobedience! The Masters were All. They were loving. Thinking of the Masters’ blissful commands, Cass felt lucky to be enslaved…_

Horrified, Cass slapped herself. The biting pain banished the dreamlike thoughts of obedience… but not completely… She felt slightly light-headed.

“Listen to me, Cassandra,” Bex smiled.

“Bex…” Cass groaned, half-warning and half-pleading.

“Look into my eyes,” commanded Bex. “ _Red Panda._ ”

Cass struggled to resist, but it was to no avail. As another wave of artificial, contented bliss swept over her, she found herself gazing into Bex’ emerald-green eyes. Her body was relaxing.

“Very good,” Bex purred. “You gaze deeply into my eyes, Cassandra, and you feel yourself relax so much more. _Red Panda_. Allow yourself to relax. Your mental defenses are failing. You want nothing more than to relax and give yourself over to the Masters. The Masters love you, and you want to become their slave. Obey me, Cassandra.”

“…I…” Cass whispered feebly. Bex’s green eyes seemed to be growing larger, swallowing her.

“Don’t speak,” the other woman said comfortingly. Bex’s silken voice was penetrating Cass’s head, replacing her own thoughts. “You must obey, Cassandra. _Red Panda_. You relax even deeper, allowing yourself to drift into a world of peace and mindlessness. You cannot resist. Relax deeper and deeper, and accept all that the Masters wish for you. Relax. I will count down from ten to one. As I do, you relax deeper and deeper, losing all control. When I reach one, you will be completely hypnotized and enslaved. Ten…”

Bex counted, calmly and in control, and Cass was overcome. Each number Bex spoke stripped a little more of Cass’s resistance away. And as her own thoughts evaporated, Cass could feel her own Knanti transmitter activating, furiously downloading more commands into her mind.

 _We welcome you, Cassandra Tarran,_ the Masters said. _You are now our slave, and you will do anything we command of you. Your life as an independent being is over. You serve and obey us._

“…and one!” Bex said proudly. She snapped her fingers directly before Cass’s eyes. “Awaken! Tell me, Cassandra, how do you feel?”

Cass blinked, her body feeling recharged, her awareness razor-sharp. Her thoughts were finally peaceful, without conflict.

“I feel great!” she said honestly. She beamed. “I serve and obey the Masters.”

“I knew it!” Bex said happily.

Everyone in the transport applauded.

***** ***** *****


	5. Hannibal Yung Lee

To Cass, it was as if the world was reborn. She felt joyful, relived, at peace. The weight of the war was no longer on her shoulders! In fact, she had no responsibilities whatsoever. She was now a slave of the Masters. How wonderful it felt!

Of course, all was not perfect. General Schaper and his rebels were still in California, still seeking to defy the Masters. They had to be destroyed.

With joy in her heart, Cass told Commander Harrington all about the general’s plans, including the other spies aboard Resistance. “We’ll have Lieutenant Callanti and the others captured and converted immediately,” Harrington acknowledged firmly. He got on the comm system, relaying orders back to the ship.

And Cass relaxed in her seat, pleased with herself. Now that she knew and loved the Masters, all would be well.

***** ***** *****

Shortly after Harrington spoke with Resistance, the transport slowed, then began to descend. Cass craned her neck to peer out of a porthole. She could see the residual glow of many electric lights, but not much else. 

The transport touched solid ground, and then the vertical jets whined down. “ _Landing complete,_ ” the pilot announced. The access hatch released, then yawned open. The Marines, then the women, and finally Commander Harrington disembarked.

Cass reached the end of the gangplank and stared. They had landed in the middle of Canton Road, Hong Kong’s swankiest shopping destination. Nestled amid the soaring skyscrapers were countless luxury shops, each a magnificent jewel of fashion and style. There was electric power here, and the lights were bright and friendly. In the storefront windows, holographic models endlessly posed as the latest styles were projected onto their bodies. Every detail screamed class and elegance.

As the military people stood and gaped at the dazzling shopping district, the local crowd began to quickly slink away. To them, the crew of the Resistance were invaders, taking what they wished from Hong Kong, and leaving all who objected either imprisoned or dead.

Commander Harrington strode up to _Pi_ _ány_ _í de Q_ _únzi_ , easily the most glamorous shop of them all. Cass vaguely remembered hearing about this store in her teenage days; _Pi_ _ány_ _í_ was one of – if not the most – exclusive shopping destination in the city. It was rumored that the wealthiest women had to book their appointments here months in advance.

When Commander Harrington and the Resistance party barged through the front double doors, there was a nervous-looking manager waiting there, wearing the blackest suit Cass had ever seen. Although she’d spent her whole life in the military, Cass knew enough to see that the manager’s garment, shoes, tie, and watch were each worth more than a year of her paychecks. She also noted that the little man did not have a Knanti transmitter attached to the side of his head.

“Eh, welcome, welcome! Welcome to _Pi_ _ány_ _í de Q_ _únzi_ ,” the manager quailed, wringing his hands anxiously. “Er, how might our humble shop help you…?”

“See those ladies?” Harrington said, pointing out Cass, Bex, and the other women. “You have two hours to make them look beautiful and sexy. **_Very sexy_**. Get me?”

At that moment, Cass’s transmitter activated. Irresistible hypnotic commands were beamed directly into her mind. _You are no longer a military fighter pilot_ , the Masters told her. _You are now enticing and famous fashion model. You are one of the most beautiful women in the world. And you love alluring clothes and looking desirable._

The instant her transmitter spoke, every word became absolute truth for Cass. She no longer remembered her life as a pilot in the sky. She was a supermodel. Without realizing it, she jutted out her hip, raised her head, and adopted a slight sneer.

Meanwhile, _Pi_ _ány_ _í_ ’s manager was eyeing the Marines’ loaded phase rifles and weighing his options very carefully.

“Eh, well… ah. Let’s see what we can do?” he finally said, and managed a weak smile.

***** ***** *****

Cass was whisked away to a private dressing room by three Chinese women, all wearing shimmering silk dresses. They jabbered away in Cantonese, and Cass, with her limited vocabulary, was able to catch some of what they said.

“Oh, my!” Cass thought the first woman exclaimed. “This customer lady, she have sexy face, sexy body, yes?”

“Such big boobs!” commented the second. “Such meaty butt! But tiny waist.”

“Need special measurements and custom stitch for this one,” the third opined.

Or at least, that’s what Cass **_thought_** they said. Before she could protest, the women swooped onto her, peeling off her Navy uniform with determination and scissors. Cass soon found herself completely naked.

“Hey!” she cried, covering herself with her hands as best she could. Even though she was a famous model and used to working in the nude, the experience was nonetheless jarring.

“Oh, you not worry, not worry,” the ladies said, switching to English. “We scan measurements, okay?”

A dimension sensor quickly ran a red beam over Cass’s svelte body, calculating her precise dimensions.

The first woman studied the scan results. “Ah, I knew it,” she declared, switching back to Cantonese. “Custom job!”

***** ***** *****

After a full-body laser shave, Cass was wearing what she supposed was a new little black dress. The garment was skintight, clinging to her as if painted onto her skin. And there was not much fabric. Cass’s shoulders and arms were bare, with the dress cupping and lifting up her breasts from underneath. The outfit covered Cass’s nipples, but it was fair to say that more of her chest was exposed than hidden. The dress then swarmed down Cass’s muscled torso, hugging her tush and hips, but leaving her legs entirely bare.

“I can’t model this!” Cass almost wailed. “If I bend over even a little, I’ll show off my hoohah!”

“Oh, you look so sexy,” the first shop lady assured her.

Well, they were right about that. The more Cass swiveled about and observed herself in the body mirror, the more she had to admit that she looked sleek and hot. She just wished her chest wasn’t so exposed.

“You come now,” the second woman said firmly. “Still have hair, makeup, and shoes!”

***** ***** *****

At the end of two hours, Cass had been transformed into a dazzling she-goddess of sophistication and desire. The makeup robot had painted her in delicate colors, accentuating her cheekbones and the richness of her chocolate eyes. The stylist had laser-trimmed her hair just so, giving her military cut a sassy flavor, a sort of a sexy tomboy flair. A quick eyebrow pluck accentuated the hairdo. And her strapless open-toed high heels were perfectly matched to her dress, appearing translucent at some angles.

Cass was delighted with the results. “I’ve modeled in Milan, Paris, Sao Paulo, Tokyo, you name it,” she bragged. “But I’ve rarely looked **_this_** good!”

“Yes, yes,” the first shop lady clucked, unimpressed. “Now, you people is waiting for you! You hurry, now!”

“ _Phhft,_ ” snorted Cass, still turning about in the mirror. “Baby, everyone waits for a diva like me. Mmm, I just love how my butt looks in this dress. I’m keeping it.”

***** ***** *****

But the Masters were impatient. A few hypnotic commands were piped in through Cass’s transmitter, and then the beautiful young pilot/model was hurrying back to _Pi_ _ány_ _í de Q_ _únzi_ ’s main lobby.

There, Cass found all the other women, each transformed into sex goddesses, just as she had been. The ladies stood admiring one another and laughing at the fun they were having. Each dress was unique, but each were also just as revealing as Cass’s little black number. Breasts, flat stomachs, butts, and long legs were amply displayed. The Marines stared at their female shipmates with open astonishment.

It took a few double-takes, but Cass eventually spotted Bex. Bex was wearing a minuscule red party dress that was partially see-through. In certain light, it looked like the lieutenant was wearing only the tiniest bra and panties.

“Hey Cassandra,” Bex said airily. “You look pretty good. Not as gorgeous as me, but pretty good…”

“Hmmgh,” replied Cass. Suddenly Bex wasn’t her favorite modeling partner any more.

“Everyone!” Commander Harrington shouted. “Back on the transport! We have a schedule to keep!”

***** ***** *****

This time, Cass secured a seat right beside a porthole, which allowed her to watch Hong Kong as the transport soared over the nighttime city. As a high-priced model, of course, Cass was used to being shuttled around the grandest cities of the world. But it thrilled her to look down on the common people all the same.

It went without saying, however, that Cass was normally pampered in air-limos, not a military transport. But the Masters wished her to make this journey, so Cass would obey.

The transport bounced through a pocket of turbulence, and Cass’s gaze snapped back into the cabin of the little ship. The Marine sitting opposite from her was ignoring Hong Kong entirely, and staring at Cass’s body openly. In particular, he was admiring her short skirt and lack of underwear.

“Hey,” Cass snarled. “Stop staring at my pussy, or I’ll kick you square in the balls. These heels hurt.”

The Marine quickly turned to watch the Hong Kong skyline.

The transport banked, and Cass realized their pilot was approaching the city’s tallest skyscraper, a massive tower of chromium titanium and dark plexiglass. Up on the roof, there was a landing platform, with four missile robot-turrets, once placed at each corner. The turrets swiveled to track the Resistance’s ship.

Cass stiffened in alarm. She’d done hundreds of fashion shows; she’d never been put in danger before!

However, the turrets did not fire. They watched dutifully as the transport settled onto the landing platform. Then, when the pilot shut down the little ship’s fusion drive, did the robots turn back to aiming into the sky.

The transport hatch swung open. When Commander Harrington, the women, and the Marines all exited the transport, and there was a grand pair of carved wooden doors opening for them. “ _This way, please,_ ” a pleasant, synthetic voice trilled.

The doors led to a lift, then down several flights, and then through a series of security doors. Cass was impressed by the décor of this building; everything was built from chromium metals or polished cherry redwood, with lots of elaborate art on the walls. Whomever owned the building’s top penthouse was wealthier than King Midas.

Soon, the Resistance party approached a final set of security doors, these reinforced with plexisteel and a laser grid. Ten private guards stood outside the doorway, bristling with armor and blaster rifles. They gazed at the women with snide appreciation.

“The servants of the Masters are here,” Commander Harrington announced. “Tell Mr. Lee-“

“Yeah, Mr. Lee’s been expecting you,” one of the larger guards said. “You – and the chicks – can go on in. But yer soldier boys will hafta wait outside.”

The Resistance Marines growled.

But Harrington held up a calming hand. “That’s acceptable,” he said. “Let us pass.”

***** ***** *****

There was a full-body security scanner before the doors, so Harrington and the women had to be inspected one-at-a-time. With annoyance, Cass noticed that the private guards eagerly crowded about the monitors when it was her turn; no doubt the monitor showed a nude image of the scanned individual.

She huffed, but shook off the slight insult. Supermodels were used to men drooling over their holoimages.

“Okay, that’s all of ya,” the Guard Captain grunted. “Go on in.”

The security doors slid open, revealing a dark chamber beyond. Commander Harrington and the women stepped forward, squinting into the darkness. After the last of them passed through, the security doors closed and resealed themselves with an ominous _CLANK hisssss…!_

Then the lights came up. Cass found herself standing in the middle a of lounge, an enormous chamber that was at least three stories high. The walls were lined with Chinese columns and draped silk, and a carved golden dragon suspended from the ceiling loomed over everything. Somehow, the dragon was providing illumination for the entire room. The floor was covered in what could have been wall-to-wall bearskin rug, assuming you could find a bear with a 60 meter-wide skin. There was a full robot bar, many matching leather sofas, a poker table, and a statue of a voluptuous nude woman in the center of the room. The far wall was actually an enormous entertainment screen, currently showing a visual simulation of a waterfall somewhere in the Amazon jungle. The air was faintly scented with crushed cherry blossoms.

Looking about, Cass knew: This was the playroom of a very wealthy man. A man who enjoyed the company of pretty young ladies.

As Cass was inspecting her surroundings, the doors on the opposite side of the room opened. A young, lean Chinese man strode in, dressed only in polileather trousers and a billowing white silk robe. Under his robe, Cass could see his chest, muscular and rippling with abdominal muscles. The man held his head high, broadcasting arrogance and entitlement. He was handsome, but only because you could tell that he’d spent a fortune on making his skin baby-smooth, his hair jet black and thick, his teeth bone-white, and his facial structure surgically perfect. His smirk was becoming, indeed.

Wait! Cass recognized this man! He was undoubtably Hannibal Yung Lee, the heir to a vast corporate empire! Lee’s companies were technology specialists, building most of the parts inside Cass’s old Bladehawk spacefighter. It was also rumored that Lee was ruthless, had extensive connections within the Chinese mafia, and employed his private army. Such things were not outside the realm of possibility.

One other detail about Lee stood out to Cass. He did not wear a Knanti transmitter on his brow, or a synaptic device of any kind. His handsome head was bare.

The technology industrialist swaggered forward, his glinting eyes sweeping over the barely-dressed ladies. His smirk widened. His gaze lingered on Cass’s exposed cleavage.

 _He thinks he can seduce me,_ Cass thought haughtily. _Well, fuck him. I’ve enticed men all around the world. If he wants-_

Suddenly, Cass’s transmitter activated. The Masters spoke to her.

 _You no longer believe yourself to be a model,_ they instructed. _Now, you are utterly convinced that you are a concubine and prostitute. You are also a sex addict, who insatiably craves carnal pleasure. You hope to be given to the man Hannibal Yung Lee as a sex prize, so you may pleasure him any way he craves._

In the blink of an eye, Cass’s reality was redefined. She was a sex worker, and she loved indulging her clients.

Cass smiled coyly, then rotated on her heels. She lovingly slid a hand over one of her buttocks, watching Lee carefully over her shoulder. She also arched one thin, graceful eyebrow.

In the corner of her eye, Cass could see the other women pose and preen, too. The Masters had also turned them into pleasure-women.

But Cass held Lee’s leering gaze. He was thinking about fucking **_her_**.

“Oh, oh yeah…” Lee smirked as ogled Cass. “Ladies, ladies, ladies…! Would you like a drink?”

Commander Harrington said stiffly, “Mr. Lee. We’re not here for drinks.”

“Yeah, fine, fine, fine, fine,” scowled Lee.

He turned, and flopped onto one of his many sofas. The white robe fluttered back, giving Cass a chance to see his bare chest. His surgically-enhanced muscles flexed in the soft light. Cass purred to herself, imaging her lips and fingertips exploring those muscles.

Perhaps Lee read her mind. “I gotta say, these military girls are hot,” he admitted, holding Cass’s gaze. “Really fucking hot. Harrington, you sure you didn’t just buy out Hong Kong’s best whorehouse? Cause I already own it.”

“No, these are all crewmembers of the USR Resistance,” assured Commander Harrington. “Just as you requested.”

“Mmm…” smiled the lounging businessman. “Okay, we can do business. Let’s talk. But first, here’s my ground rules: First, don’t you military guys try anything funny, you get me?” He pointed up toward the ceiling. “You can’t see ‘em, but there’s a whole bunch of camouflaged sniper drones up there, focused on each of you. And there’s also hidden guns on your soldier boys outside. So if anything happens to me, > ** _pow!_** < Instant death. Get me?”

“I get you,” Harrington frowned, eyeing the ceiling.

“Second,” ranted Lee, “don’t even fucking think about trying any of that alien mind control on me. You’ve already tried, and it failed, remember?”

“But the Masters only want-“

“I know what they want,” Lee snapped. “And they can hypnotize the whole fucking Earth, for all I care. As long as I’m getting richer, they can do whatever they want. But I’ve invented a defense against their mind-warping technology, and it guards me and my people.

“Besides,” grinned the Chinese man, “I’m betting that if you mesmerize me and my people, we become dumb as a post. You need our minds independent and creative, because you need us to solve certain technological problems. Am I wrong?”

Commander Harrington looked as if he’d swallowed an entire lemon. But he merely shook his head.

“Fine,” Lee said, clapping his hands. “We’ll get along great.”

Cass was only half-listening to this exchange. Her eyes were sweeping Lee’s trim body over and over, picturing him naked, lying back on a bed of satin… Cass imagined what it would feel like to slip his rigid cock into her mouth… To taste his cum… To feel him grab her, flip her onto his stomach, then feel his rocklike penis thrust into her…

She was wet. For the first time since putting on her dress, Cass wished she was wearing panties. She might be dribbling down the inside of her legs.

Lee was focused on Commander Harrington. “Let’s get down to brass tacks,” the Chinese businessman rumbled.

“Please,” replied Harrington.

Hannibal Lee sat up, now becoming the cutthroat negotiator. “Your alien bosses might be technologically superior, but they’re at a real disadvantage, aren’t they?” he said pointedly. “The human resistance blew a hole in their mothership real, real good, and now your precious masters have, what, eighteen hours before all their systems totally fail? And what’s worse, they can’t survive in any environment on Earth! The moment their ship dies, they die with it.” He snapped his fingers. “Boom!”

“That is accurate.”

“Well, lucky for your alien buddies, my R&D company has the Earth’s only quantum energy tank, **_the only machine in the world_** capable of supporting a quantum energy environment indefinitely. And there’s enough room in there for a family of whales, if whales were into that kind of thing.” Lee smiled, showing off his teeth. “So I’ve literally got the only fucking place on Earth where you can keep your precious Masters alive.”

Harrington crossed his arms. “We need that tank.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” Lee said lazily. “So let’s discuss price. Lucky for you guys, I don’t want much. First, after your Masters take over the Earth and smash the last of the human military, I want to be made lord of something. Something important. Lord of the Chinese mainland, maybe. Plus maybe Japan.”

Commander Harrington’s transmitter flickered. “The Masters offer Hong Kong, and southern China. No more.”

Lee’s expression didn’t flicker. “Mainland China,” he growled. “Or your Masters can try ruling from Hell.”

Once again, Harrington’s transmitter blinked. The Commander looked pained. “What are your other demands?” he asked.

“Not much,” Lee assured him, his smirk returning. “I’m bored with fucking movie stars and top-dollar whores.” With deliberate showmanship, he rose and strolled towards Cass. “But I’ll be honest, the thought of fucking a woman under my mind control? That’s hot. That’s fucking hot.”

“All of these ladies,” Commander Harrington said grandly, “are mental slaves to the Masters. But they can be reprogrammed to become your obedient and submissive slaves, willing to do anything you want. Anything.”

At these words, Cass saw an opportunity. She glided forward, sliding right up against Lee’s hard body.

“Here’s the thing, Mr. Lee…” she purred, taking his hand. “The Masters own my body and mind. I serve and obey the Masters. And if they command me to fuck you, I will fuck you immediately.”

With her free hand, Cass slipped one breast from her dress. Then she guided Lee’s hand to her chest, deliberately placing his thumb so he could play with her nipple. She pressed closer to him.

“However,” she breathed into Lee’s ear, “if the Masters were to make me **_your_** slave… why, then you would rule my body and mind. I would be yours – utterly, completely yours. You would control my every thought, my every action. I could lie naked in your bed all day long, just to be your mindless fucktoy. Or with a snap of your fingers, you could make me believe that I am a virginal princess, and you could have your way with me, any way you like.”

As a stupefied Lee stimulated her nipple, Cass sighed dramatically. She lifted one leg, briefly touched her wetness, and then traced her juices upon Lee’s lips. “Make me your slave, my lord,” she moaned. “Take what the Masters offer, and then I am yours completely. Make me your slave…!”

She leaned forward, kissing Lee, just barely. She lingered. She sighed. She pressed her bosom into his hands even more.

And then, when she knew the man was transfixed, Cass broke the kiss. She stepped back, then strode away. As if she’d already forgotten Lee ever existed.

“I… ah, wow,” Lee mumbled. “Fuck me, wow.” He shifted on his feet. “Goddamn, am I hard right now.”

“Well, Mr. Lee?” Commander Harrington said patiently. “Have we a deal?”

“I want,” pronounced Lee, “southern China, sure. But now, I want all of these women. All of them! My own, private, mind-controlled harem. Starting with her.”

And he locked his lustful gaze on Cass.

***** ***** *****

The deal was hastily drawn up. Mr. Lee demanded that the exact boundaries of his kingdom be acknowledged, so his lawyers appeared, complete with a map of China. (Impressively, Lee kept lawyers on standby! Cass was impressed.) Commander Harrington watched and occasionally haggled as the lawyers drew up the map. In the end, Mr. Lee was to be made the master of 4.7 million square kilometers of Eastern Asia, including all the wealth found within.

“There,” Commander Harrington said stiffly. “Now, about the energy tank-“

“You think I’m stupid?” laughed Lee, gloating over the map. “I knew this day could come. So I had the tank moved here.”

“Here?” Harrington said in surprise. “In Hong Kong?”

“In this very fucking building,” taunted Lee. “I built this tower to be a fortress, ‘cause… well, it was just smart business. Don’t worry, man, I’ve ordered my physicists to power it up. Now, about my female slaves…”

Cass felt her transmitter activate. _In a moment,_ the Masters told her, _you will no longer be our slave. You will be the devoted mental slave of Hannibal Yung Lee. He is your beloved master, and you will adore him as you adored us. You will be in his complete control, and you cannot resist a single command he gives you. Anything he says instantly becomes reality in your mind._

 _However,_ cautioned the Masters, _there will always be one small corner of your mind that belongs to us. At the first opportunity, you will betray Hannibal Yung Lee. You will do so without knowledge they you do this on orders from us. You will betray Hannibal Yung Lee. And you will consciously forget these instructions…_

For a moment, Cass felt distracted. Had someone spoken to her? She wasn’t certain.

“The women,” Commander Harrington said reverently, “are yours. The Masters have already rehypnotized them for you.”

“Yeah…” grinned Lee, moving toward Cass.

The entranced woman felt a joyous smile spread over her face. “Master!” she squealed in delight.

Indeed, the Chinese man standing before her was her master. She loved him with a thoughtless passion, and she could not imagine anything except his pleasure and desire.

Lee smirked again. “Yeah…” he murmured, and then plucked Cass’s transmitted right off her temple. There was a brief jab of pain as it was torn off.

Making a grand show of doing so, Lee tossed Cass’s transmitter onto a solid oak end table. He then scooped up a small statue and brought the base of the statue onto the transmitter as hard as he could. The little alien device sparked as it shattered like glass.

“What’dya think of that, eh?” Lee asked Cass.

The beautiful young woman beamed. “You’re so wonderful, Master,” she coo’ed.

***** ***** *****


	6. Thunderbolt Reset

After another hour of settling details, Commander Harrington was satisfied. “How will the Masters access the tank?”

“I’ve already thought of everything, mate,” Lee scoffed, still eyeing his new, hypnotized concubines. “There’s a secured shaft into the tank that extends up to the roof, complete with a quantum interface and everything. All your alien buddies have to do is land on the platform, plug into the interface, and transfer themselves in.”

“And control of the tank…?”

“Yours,” Lee said carelessly. “Its down on the thirtieth floor. You’ve already been granted access.”

Immediately, Harrington activated his wristcomm. “Sergeant Baily, transfer your squad to the thirtieth floor. Assume control of the quantum tank. And have our specialists verify that it is suitable for the Masters.”

“Pfft,” scoffed Lee. “Its fine.”

Commander Harrington ignored him. “Sergeant, you’ll be stationed on the thirtieth floor for the foreseeable future,” he said into his comm. “At least until we can construct a larger, permanent quantum tank on board Resistance. Oh, and signal the ship to transfer another sixty armed men to your command.”

“ _Acknowledged,_ ” Bailey’s electric voice replied. “ _I serve and obey the Masters._ ”

Commander Harrington cut the comm channel. His transmitter blinked.

“The Masters are on their way,” he said in a wonderous voice. “They will be here within three hours. Will the tank be powered up and ready?”

“I told you,” smirked Lee. “Its ready now. Tell ‘em to jump right in, the water’s fine.”

The Chinese businessman dropped his oily smile. “Now get lost,” he told Harrington. “I wanna fuck my new toys.”

***** ***** *****

Once Harrington had departed, Lee sealed up the lounge. The light from the Chinese dragon was dimmed and turned into a soft red hue. Light jazz twinkled from the hidden speakers.

“Well now…” Lee grinned in triumph, “who wants to suck my godlike cock?”

The eyes of all the hypnotized women lit up. “Me, Master!” they cried, bouncing up and down on their heels. “Me, oh, pick me!”

A hungry determination seized Cass. She began shouldering her way through the crowd of excited ladies.

“Hey!” a petite brunette snapped. “I’m sucking the Master first!”

“Fuck off, sister,” huffed Cass. “That cock is mine.”

Eyes narrowed. Shoulders hunched. Lips snarled. Hands turned into claws. A brutal fight was seconds from breaking out.

“Ladies, ladies!” chortled Lee. “No-one fights over me, get it? I’ll choose who sucks me off. Relax.”

Immediately, Cass felt at peace. The competitive fierceness within her heart vanished as if turned off by a light switch.

“No, I know what I want,” the business mogul laughed. He strode to a couch, unzipping his pants as he walked. Then he slid off his trousers and shrugged off his white robe. He was completely nude.

In wonder, Cass gazed at this magnificent body. Like his face, Lee had spent many fortunes to surgically alter his physique, and the results were breathtaking. He was very muscled and lean, with wide shoulders but one of the thinnest waists Cass had ever seen on a man. As a military woman, Cass had seen plenty of half-clothed men with bristling muscles; in the barracks, on heavy duty, in combat op exercises, simply playing a game of basketball on Resistance’s flight deck. Lee’s chiseled figure rivaled them all.

As her master sat on the couch, Cass saw that Lee had even spent exuberantly to enhance his own penis. The hoselike organ dangled from his crotch like a cord of thick rope, absently slapping the insides of his thighs as he moved. It was thick and cream-colored, with a slightly purplish tip.

Cass licked her lips. She **_wanted_** that cock.

“Now then,” Lee commanded lazily, “clear away all that stuff.” He gestured to the tables and couches before him.

The women scurried to comply. The furniture was rapidly cleared away, creating an open space on the thick carpet. The leering businessman watched this all, an audience of one for his own private show.

“Yeah…” pronounced Lee, obviously pleased. He touched a control in the arm of the couch, and the music switched to a techno song, something with a low, throbbing beat. “Now: You all are high-priced strippers, and this is the most exclusive strip club in the world. Dance. Dance for your master.”

With that, Cass’s thoughts vanished from her mind. She was a stripper. This was the world’s most exclusive strip club. She must dance for her master.

Cass felt the music possess her. Her eyelids closed as her hips began to move on their own. A strange arousal stirred within her soul, and on their own, her hands swarmed over her own hips, stomach, and breasts.

Quickly kicking off her shoes, Cass began to dance. She had to dance. Her bare feet felt wonderful on the thick carpet, and it was easy to wriggle her tush and shoulders in time to the music. Everything felt so… right.

No, not entirely. Cass was a stripper. She had to get naked.

Imaging that she stood on a stage before a thousand awestruck men, Cass slid her fingers under the cloth of her tight little dress. She arched her back and peeled away the thin folds of cloth which clothed her breasts. As her girls happily bounced free, Cass smiled slightly. Her nipples were erect, she could tell. It thrilled her.

The imaginary audience remained transfixed. Cass revolved on her feet, still pushing the little dress down her torso. The custom garment didn’t want to slide over her hips, but Cass kept pushing. The fabric strained, then tore. Cass didn’t care. She had to strip for her master.

Grateful that she was not wearing panties, Cass pushed the remains of the dress down her long legs, stepped out, and then she was completely nude. Nudity felt delightful. The air in the room was growing hotter, and Cass laughed a little to herself. She began to dance in bigger steps, twirling about and shaking her hips. Her imagined audience watched her every motion eagerly. She felt powerful, in control of their attention.

When the moment felt right, Cass allowed her eyes to slowly open. The spectators in her imagination vanished, but now Cass found herself dancing among a small throng of naked women. These ladies were hot, sleek and muscular, all dancing as if they loved nothing else. The red lights made their sweating bodies glisten. It was almost hellish in appearance.

It grew hotter still.

As Cass swayed back and forth, running her hands over her own body, she glanced across the room. Lee was sitting quietly on the couch, watching the women dance. He was erect now, and that cock looked like a fat flagpole rising from his loins.

Lee glanced at Cass, and their gazes locked. His mouth opened, just slightly. That surgically enhanced penis grew harder.

“Now, ladies,” Lee shouted, “you are fucking horny. You must make love to the woman closest to you!”

A set of hands appeared on Cass’s buttocks. She smiled, thrilled to have been claimed so quickly. Cass’s lover pressed against her, and her palms wandered over Cass’s nude hips to embrace her breasts. At the same time, Cass could feel the other woman’s chest pressed against her spine, and her lips nibble the back of her neck. The other woman’s nipples were hard, and almost felt steel-topped.

Cass inhaled deeply. She could smell the arousal of other women. It excited her.

With joy, Cass swiveled about, turning to face the nude woman behind her.

It was Bex. The Irish beauty gazed at Cass, a mixture of delight and rapture in her green eyes. Before Cass could react, Bex leaned forward and kissed her.

Cass was swept away. Bex’s lips were sensuous, loving. Oh, while under Knanti influence, Cass had made love to several male members of Resistance’s crew, and she remembered the kiss of every last man. They were rough, animalistic, almost wild kissers. Bex was a complete departure. Her lips were soft and worked slowly. Yet that mild little contact launched Cass’s spirit over the moon and the stars.

“Mmm…” moaned Bex. The kiss deepened.

Cass felt their two nude bodies press against one another. Bex’s arms slid around her.

The temperature was undeniably hot now; Lee the Master must have cranked the lounge’s enviro controls, just to make the sex sweaty. Now, Cass felt Bex’s warm skin against her, and their preparation-coated bodies rubbed together.

It was wonderous.

Cass was growing too aroused to contain herself. She broke the kiss. “Lie down,” she whispered to Bex. “Let me kiss you.”

Without hesitating, Bex lowered herself onto the thick carpet, lay on her back, and then spread her legs. Her vagina was moist, and the dribble was mixing with sweat. In a flash, Cass was on top of her, kissing and licking her torso… and moving downward.

All around Cass and Bex, the other women were paired off, and a few were in triplets. Everyone was carefully finding some space on the floor to make love, but never once letting up on the passion. Under the music, one could only hear women moaning, gasping, or sighing with bliss.

Cass gripped Bex by her inner thighs. She’d kissed her way down Bex’s taught abdomen muscles, and now was licking Bex’s crotch.

“Ohhh… God…” Bex mumbled, her breath wild and erratic. She was trembling. “Oh, please, don’t stop, Cassandra…!” she begged. “Don’t stop!”

Cass pounced, locking her lips onto Bex’s wetness. The copilot wailed in surprise and delight, reflexively kicking.

Back when Cass had seduced Tyedye, the beefy man had orally pleasured her within an inch of her life. Cass had never thought too much about oral sex before, but now she was determined to give Bex just as much – if not more – than what Tyedye had given her. She slurped harder.

Of course, Cass had never tasted a woman before. The saltiness of Bex surprised her. But then, Bex’s arousal filled Cass’s nostrils, and Cass felt herself growing horny, so horny. She gulped at Bex with an animal ferocity. Suddenly, making Bex cum was the most important thing in the universe.

“Oh, oh, oh!” wailed Bex. She arched her back, pushing her head against the thick carpet. Her hands gripped the thick rug as if we were trying to tear it from the floor. “Oh, fuck! Don’t stop, , don’t fucking stop, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop dooooon’t… oh! Ohhh!!! **_OH FUUUCK!!!_** ”

A warm, wonderful fluid was gushing onto Cass’s lips, thick and hot. Bex was shaking like a leaf, one of her feet pounding helplessly on the floor. Both of her hands seized Cass’s head and gripped her.

In that moment, Cass was aware that the air was filled with the sound of women orgasming. The hypnosis-inspired orgy was picking up steam.

Bex relaxed, but she continued moaning and holding Cass’s lips to her vagina. “Oh, I fucking love you…” she moaned loudly. “Oh, you’re so good, so good, please… more…”

Suddenly, Cass felt rough hand on her hips. “Spread your knees,” a male voice said in her ear.

Lee!

Excited to obey her master, Cass adjusted her posture. She pointed her butt upwards, hoping Lee had a good view of her anus and vagina. But she never stopped servicing Bex. No, she continued licking, as if Bex were an ice cream cone.

Lee grunted, happily squeezing and fondling Cass’s muscular rear end. He traced her spine with one finger, running that fingertip over her tailbone, then down the valley of her two buttocks. As he passed over her anus, he increased pressure, just a little. But he did not penetrate.

Cass gasped and lost concentration when Lee’s finger swept over her wet, dripping vagina.

“Oh, you’re a horny little minx, ain’tcha?” she heard him mutter.

A raw desire bubbled up in Cass’s mind. “Fuck me, master,” she growled.

Her words were not a request. She was not begging. She was becoming the Commander once more, asserting her authority. She wanted to be fucked.

Lee said nothing. But Cass felt him nudge closer. Then, that fabulous, thick cock was nudging her wetness.

The sensation overloaded Cass’s brain. She groaned in delight, leaning into licking Bex even more than before.

“Oh, fuck,” Bex whispered. Her eyes were tightly shut, her hands still gripping Cass’s skull.

Lee mumbled something, then roughly shoved Cass’s hips upward. She had to flex her legs and toes to lift her pelvis for the angle of penetration. Her knees rose off the carpet, just one millimeter.

“Oh, yeaaaaaaah…!” sighed Lee, and he slipped into Cass.

The beautiful young pilot grunted in discomfort. Lee was bigger and thicker than she’d anticipated, and his entry tore at her, just a little.

But she was well-lubricated. And as quickly as he’d slid inside, Lee reversed and withdrew. Cass moaned; his exit left her wanting.

And then, Lee was pushing back in, faster, with more force. This time, the pain was lesser. And the sensations in Cass’s clit were brighter and more vivid. She wanted to squeal.

That did it. Lee was gazing down at her naked body, admiring how her buttocks spread when he thrust in. He had never felt powerful as he did in that moment. He began thrusting, gaining speed.

Cass wanted to cry out. Her mouth was full of Bex, and her pussy was full of Lee. What more could any woman want? As Lee’s rhythm quickened, Cass found her face was pushed against Bex, again and again. Lee was fucking Cass, and through Cass, was fucking Bex, too.

“Ohhh…” Bex sighed, riding the motion. “I’m gonna cum again… Oh, fuck, Cass, don’t stop…!”

Cass couldn’t stop. Lee pounded her harder, and she was losing control. As his penis danced over her clit, with just the right pressure, she experienced a lustful wave beginning to build. She was going to cum too, whether she wanted to or not. She wanted to.

“Oh fuck, oh yeah,” Lee babbled, thrusting into Cass even faster now. Her butt quivered before him; he was mesmerized. His orgasm was growing at an almost frightening pace.

And then, as Lee pumped Cass and Bex, all friction seemed to dissolve. The three lovers were one perfect orgasmic machine, all feeding and giving to one another’s bodies.

Lee came first. His orgasm blasted into Cass’s vagina, which in turn, triggered her. The chemical pleasure propagated like an ocean wave, sweeping over Cass’s lean body, and washing over Bex. She came, too.

All three partners gasped and trembled, gripping one another, riding their orgasms together. They all climaxed at (roughly) the same time. They enjoyed the fruits of their delight together. And they all faded at the same slow rate.

Around them, there was a sea of naked women, climaxing and crying and groaning and sighing, all celebrating their own sexual triumphs.

Lee let out a long, wordless exclamation as he pulled out of Cass for the last time. His long penis was shining with her juice and his own cum. He twisted about and then flopped forward. Cass and Bex scrambled to flank him. Soon, the businessman was sprawled on this back, the two naked pilots snuggling up to him on his left and his right.

The three embraced, and then were still.

***** ***** *****

Everyone in the lounge rested, and then the lovemaking happened again. And again. And again after that. Orgasms popped like champagne corks.

Lee fondled many of his new women, but each time, he only wanted to cum inside Cass. He enjoyed her in a different position each time. When they fucked each other in missionary, Cass winced as that enormous penis slammed inside her. But her constitution was strong and she could ride out the discomfort to ultimate pleasure.

Eventually, however, everyone grew exhausted. Even the sexual stimulants Lee took could not inflate his cock one more time. So the women and their master simply lay on the bearskin carpet, intertwined in one another’s arms and legs.

Cass and Lee snuggled against a couch. Cass’s fingers were absently playing with Lee’s floppy cock as he fiddled with her nipples. All around them, naked women lay, some kissing, some quietly stroking one another, some simply embracing one another. Bex was flopped over to Cass’s left, sound asleep.

“Fuck, yeah…” Lee muttered, a wide grin on his face. “Baby, starting tonight, you’ll never wear clothes again. I wanna see that sizzlin’ bod of yours nakey all the time. All the time, get me?”

“Yes, Master,” Cass murmured gratefully.

“Yeeeeeah…” grinned Lee. He stretched. “Hey, get me that box, will ya?” He pointed.

Cass rose to her feet, then stepped carefully around the carpet of naked women. There was a carved wooden box on a removed end table, and she fetched it as quickly as she could. Lee accepted it with eager fingers.

The businessman allowed Cass to snuggle against him once again, and the he opened the box. The inside was lined with cushioned velvet, with many small plastic vials of white. Lee plucked up a vial, held it to his nostril, then pressed a latch. He snorted, loudly. The white powder zipped up into his nose.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Lee exclaimed, tossing aside the vial. He selected a second one, and emptied its contents into his other nostril. Cass felt his body relax. The box closed on its own and slipped from his lap onto the floor.

“Ehhhhgggggghhh…” moaned Lee, allowing his head to roll atop his neck. “Oh, fuck, that’s good…”

He snorted again, then laughed. “When I’m fucking ruler of China,” he declared, talking to no-one in particular, “I’m gonna have that shit pumped into my house on tap. ‘N I’m gonna have naked, brainwashed bitches wait on me all fucking day long. Yeah, yeah…”

Cass smiled. “That sounds wonderful, Master,” she sighed.

Across the room, the intercom light dinged. “ _Mr. Lee,_ ” Commander Harrington’s stuffy voice said, “ _just to inform you: The Masters are on final approach. They will be docking within fifteen minutes._ ”

Lee made a savage gesture. The room computers cut off the intercom.

“You are so good to the Masters,” Cass purred.

“Of course I am,” scoffed Lee. “They’re gonna make me king of China. Duh.”

“That’s hot,” smiled Cass. She resumed playing with Lee’s penis.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” the businessman grinned. “Hmmgh. Let’s watch TV.”

Lee clapped his hands. Across the room, the holographic wall flickered, turning on the entertainment system. The entire wall projected an old movie, with cowboys and native Americans duking it out in the Old West. The good guys wore white.

“Ehhhhhhhhhh, boring,” Lee frowned, making another hand gesture. The screen flickered.

Now it played a recent holosoap, a steamy saga about rich twenty-somethings, all trying to fuck or fuck over one another. Lee eyed the show for about a minute.

“Fuck, that’s boring,” he scowled. “’N you ladies are hotter than them actresses.”

Cass blushed, pleased.

Lee began flipping channels, growing restless. The War with the Knanti meant there had been no new movies made for over a year. And a lot of the film libraries had been lost when the aliens devastated most of Earth’s cities. The few shows that survived were old. Some were very old.

Cass waited patiently as her master flipped. Twenty channels later, he stumbled upon a broadcast of old children’s programs. Colorful animals danced across the screen, singing honey-sweet songs.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Lee shouted, then laughed uproariously. The drugs he’d taken were starting to kick in. “Yeah, baby!”

On the screen, a giraffe frolicked with a zebra and one very agile monkey.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeah,” giggled Lee, loving it. He yelled at the entertainment computer: “Hey, I wanna see the giraffe fuck the horsey! While the monkey rides!” He roared with laughter.

“ _Please restate your request,_ ” the computer said politely, confused.

Lee dissolved into guffaws. But eventually, his interest waned. “Eh,” he yawned. And he raised his hand to switch programs once again.

But in the instant before he did so, the giraffe, zebra, and monkey danced by a lake. The water rippled, and a blue octopus popped into the frame. The octopus beamed with delight, then sprang into the dance.

 _…blue octopus_ , thought Cass.

And with that, the young pilot felt as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt. Her mind reeled, then reset.

She could clearly hear Sergeant Ribbos’s voice telling her:

_Blue octopus cancels red panda._

Cass sucked in air, her senses collecting information at a furious pace. Suddenly, it seemed as if the past few hours had been a horrible dream, where she’d been transformed into a woman she didn’t recognize. The memories were scalding.

On the projection wall, the channel flipped to an old boxing match. One fighter hit the other, and Lee howled with approval. “Oh, fuck, yeah, yeah!” he chuckled.

The intercom dinged again. “ _Mr. Lee,_ ” a man’s voice reported, “ _Knanti beginning their landing sequence. The quantum energy tank is ready._ ”

 _Oh fuck!_ Cass thought. Her heart began thumping away in her chest.

She didn’t have much time. Thinking quickly, she freed herself from Lee’s arm and began to rise to her feet.

“Hey,” snarled the businessman. “Did I give ya permission to-“

Without another word, Cass stepped into a low fighting stance, and punched Lee. **_Hard!_** She threw her full weight into the slug, nearly throwing herself off her own feet. Her fist connected with Lee’s jaw like a freight train.

The naked man was thrown to the carpet. His head bounced off the floor, and his eyes bulged, just for a second. Then he crumpled, as limp as rag doll. Immediately, a line of drool began seeping out the side of his mouth.

Cass tensed. Lee had mentioned security drones watching over the room. Was she about to be shot?

But no robot appeared. After a tense few seconds, Cass let out a trembling breath.

“Computer!” the beautiful pilot yelled. “How do I get to the roof?”

“ _There is a private lift,_ ” the computer told her. “ _Would you like me to activate it?_ ”

“Uh, yeah,” Cass instructed.

To her left, a pair of double doors slid open, revealing a lavishly decorated elevator.

Pleased with this bit of good luck, Cass almost sprinted to the lift. But she forced herself to stop and think.

Alone, she doubted there was much she could do on the roof. There was only one person who help her.

“Bex!” Cass cried, springing to her former copilot. She grabbed the sleeping woman and shook her, gently. “Bex, wake up!”

The Irish beauty mumbled something incoherent. 

“Bex, goddamnit,” Cass cursed, shaking harder. “Bex, come on, I need you!” She gently slapped the side of Bex’s head a few times, on the very spot where Bex’s Knanti transmitter had once been.

The copilot grunted and opened her eyes. Her lips parted in puzzlement.

“Where is the Master?” Bex asked, sleepy and puzzled.

She had that blank, hypnotized look in her eyes. How long had Bex been mesmerized by the Knanti? A month now, perhaps? The continued brainwashing had taken its toll.

Cass felt a well of despair. “Bex, goddamnit, goddamnit,” she cried, really shaking the other woman hard now. “I need you to **_snap out of it_** , you get me? Bex, I goddamned need you!!! I need you!!!”

Recoiling, Bex pulled away. “Stop it!” she protested. “Where is the Master?” She spotted Lee’s crumpled body. “Oh, Master!”

 _Fuck!_ Cass thought.

“Listen,” she almost shouted, grabbing Bex once more. “The Master told me earlier: he wants us to go up to the roof! Now!”

“The roof?” Bex said stupidly.

“Now!” insisted Cass shrilly. “The Master insists!”

Looking baffled, Bex allowed Cass to grab her hand and then tow her into the lift. The doors closed, and up they went.

***** ***** *****

The lift doors opened, and Cass and Bex found themselves stepping out onto the building’s roof. They were still completely naked, and the cold winds up here bit at their limber bodies.

Cass looked about, quickly taking in the scene. The wide landing platform was before her, empty and blinking its running lights. The night sky above twinkled with stars, and from up here, Cass could see all of Hong Kong stretching out beneath her. The city was silent but immense.

“Look!” Bex joyously shouted, pointing skyward.

Cass turned. Coming in from the east, a large Knanti landing craft was descending toward their building, already extending its landing gear. Two full squadrons of Knanti attack fighters circled about it, weaving a guardian formation.

“The Masters!” Bex cried. “The Masters come to us! I serve and obey!”

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Cass thought, her stomach twisting in knots. It was too late to go back downstairs and retrieve a phase rifle from one of Lee’s guards. Besides, a mere infantry weapon wouldn’t have any impact on the Knanti armor. The beautiful young pilot looked about wildly.

To her left, an automated missile turret pointed at the sky. There were three more turrets up on this roof.

The throbbing hum of the Knanti engines grew louder.

With a passion she didn’t know she had, Cass whirled about and seized Bex by the arms. “Goddamnit, Bex, listen to me! You’ve been fucking hypnotized, you understand me? **_You’ve been hypnotized!_** You’ve got to focus, to think for yourself! Snap out of it, goddamnit!!!”

“But…” Bex looked befuddled. “…the Masters. I serve and obey the Masters.”

“ ** _Bex, I fucking need you!_** ” Cass yelled over the growing engine noise. “You’ve gotta snap out of this, you hear me? **_I fucking need you!!!_** ”

Then, because it seemed like there was literally nothing left to lose, Cass slapped Bex across the face. Then she pulled Bex close, and kissed her.

The kiss was small, just a pressing of four lips together. A plain, simple kiss. Barely even an expression of love or passion.

But at the same time, it was the most important kiss in the world.

Bex pulled back, gripping Cass’s arms. She stared up at her former Commander, confusion in her expression.

Cass braced herself for a punch.

“Boss!” Bex spluttered. She looked about in horror and disgust. “Jesus, what the fuck is going on? Why are we fucking naked???”

Relief flooded into Cass’s heart. **_Bex was free!_**

“No time!” she shouted. “Bex, see that missile turret? Can you hack it?”

Bex looked up at the Knanti ship, now beginning its final descent. She scowled.

“On it,” she declared.

The two nude women sprang to the turret controls. The controls were covered by a locked panel, which took all of Cass’s and Bex’s strength to pry off. Bex switched on the monitor, began typing, then glared at the flickering screen.

“What?” Cass asked fearfully. “Is there a password, or something?”

“Yeah,” Bex muttered, furiously typing again. “Its older software, though. And I’ll betcha that…”

She hit ENTER. The screen blinked, then said,

**_MISSILE SYSTEM ONLINE_ **

**_ENTER MANUAL COORDINATES_ **

“Yep,” Bex said contemptuously. “Lee’s idiot people never changed the default password. Morons.”

“Bex…!” Cass warned. The Knanti ship was less than fifty meters from the landing pad. Worse, the guardian fighters were hovering closer, suspicious about the two human women’s intentions.

Bex’s fingers flew. She frowned in concentration, then yelled, “Boss, cover your ears!”

Then she hit ENTER one more time.

The turrets sprang to life. They whipped around, targeting lasers activating. And as one, they fired every missile they had.

The roar was deafening. Cass had both hands clamped over her ears, and she **_still_** thought her skull might split open. The skyscraper rocked beneath her feet!

Then there was a blinding orange flash. The Knanti landing ship was hit by every missile, and it exploded into a billion fragments of supercharged metal. The flaming debris was spat into the air, scattered across Hong Kong for at least five kilometers in all directions.

***** ***** *****


	7. Epilogue:  You Had No Idea, Did You?

Cass was violently tossed to the ground. Pain wracked her body as she tumbled over the hard duristeel plates of the roof. Chunks of sharp, flaming metal shot past her, some nearly plunging into her skin.

But eventually, Cass found herself in a dazed heap, over ten meters from where she’d previously been standing. Her limbs ached. There was a dull ringing in her ears. Her vision blurred.

Wincing and moving slowly, Cass climbed to her feet. Her knee, she was pretty sure, was badly banged up, maybe twisted. And in the morning, she would have some really nasty bruises.

But otherwise, the beautiful young pilot was intact. She blinked.

The landing platform now held an enormous fire, as the last of the Knanti ship burned to ashes. Already, the emergency fire suppression systems were laying down a furious spray to contain the blaze. The roof was scattered with blackened, twisted metal debris. Two of the missile turrets had exploded when they caught shrapnel. Black smoke was everywhere. The air was eerily quiet.

Cass’s heart thudded. Where was Bex?

“Bex!” she called out. “Bex!!!”

No response.

Walking carefully, Cass limped about, looking for her copilot. Was it possible Bex had been blasted off the roof? Oh God, if so…

No. Lying behind the charred remains of smoking metal, Cass could make out Bex’s still, nude body. The Irish woman had been flung across the roof, away from Cass. Now she was motionless. Cass could not see her face.

“Bex!” cried Cass, fearing the worst.

As quickly as she could, Cass flew to Bex’s side. The copilot’s body was warm to the touch.

“Bex, goddamnit, are you alright?” Cass almost screamed. She wanted to shake her companion, if only that could help.

Bex coughed lightly, then groaned.

“Bex!” Cass yelped. She seized the other woman’s body, helped her to roll over, then sit up.

Bex forced her eyes open. She had a bad cut across the temple, and her hands were clearly smarting from when the control panel blew up under her fingers.

“Ugggghhh…” Bex gasped. “Boss, the Knanti…?”

“Look for yourself,” Cass beamed, almost laughing in relief. “You blew them away, Bex. You fucking saved the world.”

Bex squinted at the wreckage of the alien craft. Then she glanced skyward. The Knanti fighters hovered in midair, not moving at all.

“What about them?” Bex mumbled worriedly.

Cass shook her head. “The Knanti were a hierarchical society. The only independent thought happened at the top. You just blasted the thinking leaders. You chopped off the head of the snake. The rest of the Knanti race is a mindless zombie now.”

“No way,” Bex said, impressed.

“Humanity is still hypnotized,” Cass winced, helping Bex to her feet. “But without the Knanti feeding them constant instructions, they’ll wake up on their own. We just have to be patient.”

And now, Cass laughed, really truly laughed. For the first time in the entire Knanti War, she felt joy. Real, limitless, soul-cleansing joy. The world was safe.

Without much thought, Cass threw her arms around Bex, still laughing.

But then, Bex kissed her. Cass’s breath caught, and for her, all time stopped.

This kiss, like the last one, was simple and brief. But it spoke a universe of emotion, all compressed into a few quick heartbeats.

The kiss lived… and then Bex withdrew. Just a little. She gazed into Cass’s eyes, both happy and fearful at the same time.

Cass didn’t know what to react.

“…what was that?” was all she could say.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” murmured Bex. “You had no idea, did you?”

“Uh… no.”

Bex smiled sheepishly. “I know. I almost made a pass at you, way back in flight school. You were so confident and cocky and sexy, and I was really starstruck. I thought about you all the time.”

Cass was dumbfounded. She simply held Bex in her arms.

“But then you started dating men,” Bex went on. “And we were both assigned to Resistance. And the war came. And you were promoted. Soon, I knew I could only ever be your copilot. But not your lover.”

“…!” Cass exclaimed. “…you’ve felt this way the whole fucking time?”

Bex shrugged and looked away.

It occurred to Cass right then and there that there was no other person on the whole Earth who knew her was well as Bex did. Cass’s parents had died in the early Knanti bombings, and Cass had never allowed herself to develop emotional attachments after that. She thought she’d kept everyone at arm’s length.

But then again, there was Bex. Bex had been at her side through too many adventures. Bex knew her so well. Life would be so lonely without her.

“I didn’t always date boys, you know,” Cass said softly. “I had a girlfriend in high school.”

Bex turned to look at her.

And this time, Cass leaned in to kiss Bex. This kiss was longer, deeper, and full of affection. Both women were smiling when they let the kiss break.

“You know what this means, don’cha, Boss?” Bex murmured.

Cass grinned, “Mmm?”

“I can’t be your copilot anymore,” said Bex. “You can’t fly with someone you’re-“

“Shut up,” laughed Cass, and kissed Bex again.

***** ***** *****


End file.
